Echelon
by Crash 'nd Burn
Summary: They were told they were chosen for a special mission only they could complete-what they weren't told was that they were mere trials to perfect an experiment. Now they're running from MECH, trying to find the truth about their existence and a place to belong. T for violence and swearing. CURRENTLY UNDERGOING A REWRITE
1. Exordium

_.:Commander's Log—Entry 1:._

_ The date is Tuesday, July 10, 2012. My team and I have been undergoing intensive training, and have successfully gone on our first mission as of today. We have yet to make contact with either Autobots or Decepticons, but that is fine by my standards—I do not think Blockade and Rollcue are ready for combat, despite what our commanding officers might believe. They are young—though I am one to talk—and have yet to see real battle. I fear their brashness will get them hurt, but I can't very well voice my opinion to The Commander or the Surgeon. The best I can do is hope that when the Autobots or Decepticons finally show themselves my team will be ready. I hope I can protect them when that happens._

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_.:Unknown Location, 0100 Hours:._

Pale moonlight filtered in through the rusted grating on the ceiling, broken shafts of the silvery light crossing the cement floor. Within the dark recesses of the old abandoned aircraft warehouse stood a single figure, garbed in dark clothing so as to blend in with the deep shadows cast about him. His gloved hands were clasped behind his back, masked head held high as he awaited the Surgeon. He stood facing the open hangar door, masked features strained. The meeting was important.

A surgeon was the best word to describe the MECH operative in charge of the robotic engineering team, but 'butcher'' could also apply to the maniacal ex-military forces. In all honesty, the MECH first lieutenant wasn't sure if the Surgeon could be trusted. He had been dismissed from military duty due to questionable stability of mind, and had joined MECH only for his expertise in robotics, mechanical sciences, and background in medicine. But The Commander knew one thing; the Surgeon was never late. True to his word, the surgeon showed up exactly five minutes past one in the morning, accompanied by his entourage of MECH commandos in their chartreuse-colored vehicles. Four large semi-trucks hitched with trailers followed close behind.

The Commander didn't move until all the operatives, including the Surgeon himself, had removed themselves from their automobiles, the four agents that had driven the trucks ordered to wait within their oversized trucks. The Surgeon strode up to The Commander, the only unmasked person that had arrived at the warehouse. Only the Surgeon and Silas himself had decided against masking their features, Silas because he had nothing to hide, and the Surgeon because he honestly didn't care. He had previously worn a mask, but upon Silas's injuries had decided against continued use. He didn't get out much, anyway.

Gray eyes the color of dusty steel stared up at The Commander, lips pulling his sharp features into a half-sane smirk. "Commander," The Surgeon greeted, accompanied by a lazy salute, "So good to see you again. You came alone, I see." The Commander unclasped his hands from behind his back, crossing them over his chest instead.

"I did," He agreed, "Your mission was a success, I take it?" The Surgeon gave a wry chuckle, smirk twisting into a crooked smile. He drug his fingers through his dark brown hair. Briefly, The Commander wondered how someone as young as he was was so... unhinged. Brilliant, but unhinged. The Surgeon seemed to be barely past his mid-twenties, maybe early thirties. Where had this young man's life gone?

"Right down to business," The Surgeon mused, mimicking The Commander's crossed arms. His steely eyes glinted in the half-light, overconfident features smoothing out into a neutral appearance as he reported his success. "My mission was accomplished as assigned," He said. "We collected four frames, and have started rebuilding the prototype of the refractor."

The Commander nodded, "Wonderful. And how goes the research?"

"The techs have calculated we have enough Energon for three test runs and one final use. We'd have enough to keep the subjects running in time for them to mine more, and by that time it'd be indefinite."

"Three? Would that be necessary?" The Commander seemed apprehensive. He didn't want this to turn out to be one of the Surgeon's many insane experiments.

The Surgeon nodded animatedly, "Of course. It such a shame that the schematics were incomplete. We want to perfect the procedure before use on Silas, don't we? "

Even The Commander had to admit he didn't want an angry Silas running after him in that mechanical body, malfunctioning or not. "Right, without a doubt." Of course he still had doubts, but he wasn't about to admit that. "Who would you recommend as our subjects?"

"I have decided that none of our current operatives match the profiles," The Surgeon replied immediately. The Commander raised an eyebrow quizzically, though it was hidden behind his mask.

"Is that so? And what are these profiles you have created?" The Commander was temporary leader while Silas was... out of commission. He didn't like that the Surgeon was going behind his back and working on the project without his knowledge.

"Actually, I have six." The Surgeon snapped his fingers and one of the agents standing behind him came forward, handing over a folder. "I have so far had the privilege of scanning six mecha-structures. Thus, I have six vastly different frame structures to choose between, each requiring a specific character profile to match with." The Surgeon paused, opening the folder and taking out the six pieces of paper. Each had an image of the mecha-structure they represented, accompanied by long paragraphs of text. "You get to choose our three subjects. I will handle finding the appropriate cases."

The Commander hesitated, flipping through the papers. He recognized all the body structures, eyes narrowed behind the mask as he examined the profiles. "You do realize we are not making copies of the visitors, yes? The last time ended... disastrously."

The Surgeon's smirk returned with a vengeance. "But of course, Commander. These are mere basic structures, the skeleton with which we can work with." He explained. "My team and I will be perfectly capable of redesigning them to be unique and just as viable as the original subjects."

Still, The Commander hesitated. "What are your recommendations?"

"Air superiority is a must," He replied instantly. "And will require a very specific personality and experience, but I can manage."

The Commander nodded, not wanting to go any further into the Surgeon's profiling on that particular matter.

"This one is too small," The Commander decided, handing one of the papers back to the Surgeon, who replaced it in the folder. "This one is the body structure of Silas's," He handed another to the Surgeon. "And this one is out of the question. That leaves these."

The last three papers were examined by the Surgeon, who's characteristic smirk had transformed into a full-on grin. "Good choices," He practically purred. "I will get started on these immediately."

He turned away, but was stopped by a hand on his shoulder. The Surgeon looked back, raising an eyebrow at The Commander. "Yes?"

"Stay focused, Surgeon." The Commander growled. "These are test subjects, we don't want to spend valuable resources on unnecessary lavishness."

The Surgeon snorted, wrenching his shoulder out of his commanding officer's grasp. "I understand," He said, "The designs will be completely economical, although it would be a _waste_ of resources not to make sure they can at least match our robotic friends in combat. Everything will be ready within a week. Expect the first test to start on Wednesday." He walked away, waving a hand at the drivers of the semis. They turned the trucks around, starting to drive off, just as the Surgeon reached his own vehicle.

The Commander watched until they were out of sight, lips pursed as he stared at the identical cars driving away. Wednesday couldn't come fast enough.

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_.:Classified Location; Thursday, 1500 Hours:._

The plane landed on the tiny airstrip, powerful jets powering down after slowing to a stop. A few minutes later, the door opened and the small metal staircase was wheeled up to the personal jet. Three people stepped down, one ahead of the others. The two behind the young man were holding his luggage, including one duffel bag that seemed out of place with the fancily dressed men.

They all wore matching black suits, crisp white shirts, and sunglasses. To any random bystander they would look, in all honesty, like either the Secret Service or the Men in Black. Either were ample comparisons, though in all reality the latter was closer than would be realized. The man in front smirked, steely gray eyes glinting behind his sunglasses. He stepped down the ladder, beckoning his bodyguards to follow him. He never went anywhere without an entourage, whether they be MECH operatives, his bodyguards, or a gaggle of scientists.

A black car pulled up, the driver getting out to take the bags and place them in the trunk of the vehicle. The bodyguards took their places, one in the passenger side of the front of the car, the other on the right side of the back, while the young man took his place on the lefts side. The duffel bag was still present, on the lap of the bodyguard next to the young man. He had refused to give it to the driver, under orders from his employer. The car pulled away from the tiny airport, heading down the main roadway.

"What is our destination?" The driver asked, eyes never leaving the road.

"That is none of your concern," The young man replied curtly. "My good friend here," He gestured to the bodyguard sitting next to the driver. "Will advise you in the directions you will take."

The driver didn't really know who these people were, he had been told it was his job to drive them, not interrogate them, but he still felt uncomfortable in the car with the trio. It wasn't even the bodyguards that worried him; he had chauffeured many important people in his time, and was familiar with the bodyguard type. It was the thin man that gave him the creeps; it felt as though every time the brunet met his gaze behind those reflective sunglasses he was evaluating him. Evaluating him for what, the driver didn't know, but it still worried him.

The driver's thoughts were interrupted when the bodyguard next to him told him to take the next left. He complied, following the next set of directions down the unfamiliar roads. Soon they were in a neighborhood, then they were exiting the city. They drove for about ten minutes without any interruption, and the driver started getting suspicious about their destination. Then he was told to turn off on a dirt road. He almost refused, thinking about how the muddy road would dirty up the tires and mess up the paint. He was paid to drive, though. Plus, the appearance of the car wasn't his responsibility, so it really didn't matter.

The car drove down that road for another ten minutes, winding down the narrow path until they were heading into a thin forest. The forest thinned out further, and they were heading towards a rather old looking two-story house. A few hundred meters away there was a barn, a silo, and quite a bit of land. They pulled up to the house, and the three men got out. He was told to wait, so he turned off the car while he waited. No use wasting the gas, he decided.

They strode up to the house, knocked on the door, and waiting. The drive watched the proceedings carefully, still suspicious of the men. He didn't want to get into anything illegal, no matter what his contract said. He was a chauffeur, not a getaway diver. A young man opened the door—he could have been a teenager, it was difficult to tell from that distance—and the men proceeded to strike up a conversation. The driver couldn't hear anything they said, but the man he had just driven was gesturing widely and seemed to be talking animatedly. The teen who had answered the door was nodded hesitantly, then he went back inside, beckoning the trio to follow. The door was closed, and the driver couldn't see anything more.

Ten minutes passed, then twenty, then thirty, soon it was an hour and a half. The driver was getting bored, aching to jump out of the car and stretch, but he had to wait. It would be very unprofessional of him if he got out, only to have the trio of men return and for them to proceed to another destination. When two hours had rolled by, the men returned. In their wake was the teen, lugging a backpack. All four of them got in, the bodyguards and the man getting in their previous places whilst the teen sat between the man and bodyguard in the back. As they left there was an eery silence over the passengers. The driver glanced in the rear-view mirror, finally getting a good look at the teen.

He was tall, that was evident, with broad shoulders. He was obviously well built—having lived on a farm, obviously—and appeared quite strong. Though at first glance he could most likely be assumed as one of those brawn-but-no-brain characters, at second glance it was evident he had a bright, inquisitive light in his large brown eyes. He would brush his dark blonde hair out of his eyes occasionally, glancing at the others nervously. The driver mentally shrugged, then received the next destination. They were to head back to the airport.

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_.:Classified Location; Friday, 1600 Hours:._

Rain pattered against the windshield of the car, the windshield wipers periodically wiping away the drizzle as the group drove through the city. The two bodyguards were on edge, but the Surgeon was quite happy. He was excited for the next pickup; who knew what would happen? He had chosen this next subject with care, making sure they came from a military-related family before scouring the government records for anything suitable. Naturally, all the subjects had to be some-sort of military related, but that didn't matter. This one had to have air force relations somehow, and this candidate was perfect. Of course, they all had to be perfect. Without a perfectly matching personality to the profile, everything could go wrong. Or, at least, that's what he thought.

The chauffeur was female this time, bright blonde ponytail tied back under the dark black uniform hat. She periodically would check back on the Surgeon, just like the previous one. He knew he had that effect on people, but that was irrelevant. The black vehicle pulled up to the cheery blue duplex. As they had the day before, the trio left the car in the drive way and approached the house, knocking on the front door. It took a few moments for an answer, but eventually a tall man with curly dark brown hair answered.

The Surgeon gave him a bright smile, holding out his hand. "Good after noon, sir, my name is Zachariah Reid. Is Ryan here?"

The man, presumably the father, looked wary. "What is your business with my son?"

The Surgeon reached into the pocket of his jacket, flashing his badge. "I'm with a special branch of the military. We're interested in recruiting your son." The father still looked suspicious, but beckoned the trio in.

Two hours later, they once again left with a teen boy in their wake. He was obviously not as tall as the previous, with a shaggy mop of curly black hair and crystal blue eyes. He trailed behind the trio of older men carefully, watching them suspiciously. He carried nothing, not even a backpack; all he had with him were the clothes he was wearing.

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_.:Unknown, Nevada; Monday, 1100 Hours:._

The Commander was not amused, not in the least. Three of four semi-trucks that had previously contained the frames that were needed for the operation were empty, sitting in the storage area of the base. The MECH second in command crossed his arms over his chest, staring at the contents of the one occupied truck with contempt. Actually, he loved what was in it, he just hated that the Surgeon had once again completely ignored what he had said.

The Commander pulled out a phone, flipping through the contained numbers before selecting the Surgeon's. It rang three times before it was answered.

"My car arrived." It wasn't a question, just a simple statement proving what The Commander had assumed.

His commanding officer scowled at the phone, snapping, "I told you not to waste our resources—"

The Surgeon interrupted The Commander, "I didn't. That car, you'll notice, is not registered."

"You stole it?" The Commander was surprised. Usually the Surgeon went the legal way about things, trying to draw as little attention to himself as possible.

"Not me, a few of our operatives." The Commander's scowl grew. 'Our operatives?'

"This is one of the least subtle vehicles I have ever seen," The Commander said, "This will attract more attention that we can handle, especially if it's stolen."

"That doesn't matter," Came the quick reply, "The other two will be arriving soon, as well. Keep an eye out for them, alright?" Then, he promptly hung up. The Commander stared at the phone incredulously for a moment, before resisting the urge to smash it against the cement ground he stood on. The subjects would be arriving that afternoon, and by what the Surgeon had said he could expect the other two altmodes to arrive, as well. Despite himself, The Commander felt a small pang of curiosity. He had a vague sense of what the other two vehicles would probably be, having decided upon the basic structures of the mechas that were being built.

Interestingly enough, he had been denied access in watching the building process; he still didn't even know what the mechas looked like in the least. The scientists that worked for the Surgeon had told him he wouldn't be allowed access to them until they were fully built, estimated to be Tuesday—the next day and the day before the first experiment would begin. How the Surgeon had managed to achieve enough authority to deny the MECH second in command access, he was still trying to figure out. The Commander guessed it had something to do with how scared the scientists were of the Surgeon. Most likely the Surgeon had denied him access so that he couldn't make any last minute changes to the designs, meaning that The Commander had no say whatsoever in their appearance. This was fine with him; he didn't care about the cosmetics of the mechas, only their functionality.

If anything, the Surgeon was manipulating his commanding officer, using the schedules and estimated times of arrivals to make sure that The Commander couldn't do anything except wait. All that he had managed to do in the past three days was put together a presentation of how he was going to introduce the subjects into their war without losing their support. They didn't have the time to find replacements; The Commander hoped that the Surgeon had picked wisely.

One of the many MECH commandos ran up to the second in command, stopping a few feet before him and giving a salute. "Sir, the men over in robotics have completed the mechas ahead of schedule."

"Is that so?" The Commander replied, "I'm assuming that means I can finally see what all the fuss has been about." The commando nodded, and fell into step ahead of his commanding officer as he lead The Commander through the various networking of hallways and connecting laboratories. The mechas had all been constructed in separate hangars; the only rooms large enough for all the equipment, workers, supplies, and the frames themselves. The Commander was glad that all the operatives wore mask, including himself. This meant that it was easy for him to hide his excitement at finally seeing their test subjects' empty frames.

The doors were locked with codes, each known only to the Surgeon and his inner circle of scientists. Of course, this left The Commander in the dark as to the proceedings within. The Commander entered the first hangar, ordering the commando that had lead him there to stand outside. The MECH base had a large collection of storage rooms and hangars, but the three largest had been chosen for the purpose of construction. The ceiling was high, at least sixty feet, and the room itself was large enough to house at least five fighter jets; ample space for this particular feat of engineering.

The bright light cast by the hanging lamps cast dark shadows about the room, and had they not been underground The Commander would have assumed there was a skylight somewhere judging by the intensity of the light. The MECH temporary leader approached the railing of the observation deck, a good fifteen feet off the ground, and looked down. The MECH engineers were still busy at work, putting the finishing touches on their latest success, but otherwise the structure was complete.

The Commander knew it would be paired with the automobile he had found earlier, judging by the size and overall appearance. It was at most twenty feet tall, sleek and all rounded edges. The main color was a pearly white, although there were various sections of carbon-fiber black, complimented by a few cherry-red slivers; exactly like the car from before. The Commander wondered briefly if they had had to use two of the cars, one for the necessary parts and the other for scanning, or if they had found a way to bend and alter the metal unique to the living machines, nicknamed 'cybernite' by the engineering team.

One of the head engineers noticed his presence and stopped working, putting down something that looked like a welder to head up the stairs to the observation deck. He saluted The Commander, who nodded.

"You approve of the design?" The engineer asked, appearing nervous. In all honesty, The Commander didn't care.

"Is it functional?"

The engineer hesitated. "That is yet to be seen," He said nervously, "It is currently operational, yes, but it is nothing more than an empty shell. With no consciousness, it can't do anything." That was obvious and what the refractor was for.

"And the refractor?"

"Built and ready for testing," The engineer reported, giving another salute.

"Get back to work, then." The Commander watched as the masked operative turned on his heel and headed back down to continue whatever it was he had been doing, before heading out to the next hangar.

The next room was exactly like the first, including the scene, except for a few differences. One—the room was larger than the previous and could probably of held a couple more fighter jets than the other; and two—there actually was a fighter jet in the room. An extensive knowledge of military aircraft confirmed to The Commander that the jet was an F-16 Fighting Falcon. Lying in the middle of the concrete space was the enormous examination table, on top of which was a mecha-structure.

It was much taller than the previous, at at least twenty-five, maybe thirty feet tall. All smoky gray and cyan and sharp angles, the most defining feature was the pair of large up-swept wings that reached over the width of the table it lied on. Most interestingly was the paint job; it was in a camouflage-like style, varying shades of slate, smoke, and pale gray, adorned with varying cyan blue accents at all the extremities—wingtips, fingertips, edges on the mecha's chest, and the crest atop its helm. As before, one of the engineers came over to speak with The Commander.

"Its status is the same as the white one, yes?" The Commander said once he had been greeted.

"Of course, sir," The generic engineer responded, "It could technically be operated upon right now." The Commander nodded, and made his leave, heading straight for the third and final hangar.

The door wasn't open as the previous two had been, and when The Commander tried the handle it was locked. He pounded on the door a few times, then waited impatiently until one of the agents within opened the door hastily.

"Sorry sir, we didn't know you were coming and—" The Commander shoved the blabbering operative aside, barging into the hangar. It was the same size as the previous, but almost entirely devoid of workers. The lights in the far corners of the airdock were powered off, casting a good portion of the room into shadow. The lights that were on were focused on the last and largest of the three experimental frames.

The mecha-structure was at least thirty feet tall, all long limbs and thick armor. Despite the bulkiness of most of the frame, it was in no way inferior. The frame spoke of strength of body and mind, and for a moment The Commander wondered if Silas would be jealous that this would not be his to control. Of course, it was only a prototype; it could either be a great success or a great failure. If anything, if either of the three frames were a success the advantages of each would be implemented into Silas's body.

It was predominately teal, a handsome dark blue-green-gray color that was accented by diverse streaks of rusty-amber. Even without having seen the altmode, The Commander knew it was a truck. A very large truck. Of course, the moment he though this, one of the large hangar doors opened and a vehicle was driven in. Although considered small for a semi-truck, it was still large enough to look imposing. It was painted identical to the mecha, with the same rusty-amber color in twisting thin stripes starting at the rims, curving over onto the bonnet, which in turn went up and over the roof. The emblem on the grille marked it as a Peterbilt, model 384. A single smoke stack rose up and over the cab.

"I thought I said no unnecessary lavishness," The Commander growled to himself. Really, all the fancy altmodes, paint jobs, who was paying for all of it? Silas would be very irritated if he came out of his coma and found out that not only was he now a machine, but a machine that paled in comparison to the _experimental subjects._ Not that he would care about the paint jobs, most likely, but it would still be embarrassing.

"Oh, no worries, I had the vehicles stolen and made sure that the agents did the painting. Nothing cost more than absolutely necessary." The Commander whirled around to receive a bright smirk from none other than the Surgeon.

"So good of you to make it, doctor," The Commander snorted. "Where are our new recruits?" The Surgeon was alone, leaning against the door frame like he owned the place.

"No worries, they're waiting to be debriefed." The Surgeon followed The Commander's gaze, looking down at the frame below. "Beautiful, isn't it?"

The Commander had many words to describe the mecha, and not one of them could be related to 'beautiful'. If anything, he considered it an eyesore. "You could say that," The Commander scoffed. He checked a clock, blinking at the time. He had spent well over three hours looking over the mecha-structures.

"Let's get you introduced to our enlistees, shall we?" The Commander apprehensively followed the Surgeon out of the engineering wing of the base, watching the shorter and younger man warily. He was up to something, The Commander could tell. The Surgeon looked more smug than usually, like he knew some secret that The Commander didn't know and would hate.

They entered one of the rooms, and observation room that stood just outside many interrogation rooms. Each interrogation room had a door, and a large pane of one-way glass. You could look in, but they couldn't look out.

Inside one of the rooms sat three individuals, chatting idly around a table. One, the smallest, was a teenage boy with shaggy black hair and sharp blue eyes that darted between the two almost constantly. He sat across from a tall girl, with short-cropped brown hair and mischievous hazel eyes, who seemed occupied with explaining something with wide gestures. Between the two sat the oldest, a strong looking young-man of about twenty years at most, with dark blonde hair and wide brown eyes. The younger two were talking animatedly about something, whilst the oldest sat and listened quietly, occasionally giving his own input into the conversation.

"They're children," The Commander said in surprise, turning to stare at the Surgeon. "You brought children?"

"They aren't children, they're young adults." The Surgeon retorted. "The profiles called for persons at an age of which their minds are easily adaptable but developed enough to be independent of their parents." He gestured at the room, taking in the trio of teens. "You have the oldest, about nineteen, and the youngest," He pointed at the smaller boy, "Sixteen."

The Commander sighed, resigned, then shook his head. He pressed a button on a console to the side of the door of the interrogation room. Speakers came to life, and they could hear what was being said.

The younger man was speaking, "My dad was in the air force," He bragged, "I was applying for the air academy, but then these guys showed up and were, like, 'You were chosen for a special mission instead.' Isn't that great?"

The girl snorted in disdain, "I am zhree-time gold champion in drag racing," She smirked, "Vith a bit ov dabbling in zhe street racing and stunt driving." The Commander guessed she was German, by her accent, which was slightly amusing.

"Isn't that illegal?"

"Zhat's vat the stunt driving is vor; getting avay from zhe authorities. Vat about jou?" She turned to the oldest. "Vat'd they get you for?" By the way she said it, they could have been cell mates in the county jail, not specially chosen candidates for an activist group's experiments.

"I was just applying for the Coast Guard," Said the older of the trio. "Nothing very special."

The younger man shrugged, "Where're you from?"

"A small farm in Maine," Was the reply.

The girl and boy looked at each other, then burst into giggles. "Maybe zhey need jou to help plow zhe fieldz," The girl said.

"Alright, enough eavesdropping," The Surgeon said. "We need to get them debriefed and prep one for the first test." He turned off the speakers, muting the interior, then opened the door. The two MECH commanding officers filed into the room, standing before the trio of teens. They were silent, gazing up at the men in curiosity.

"I am codename Commander," The Commander said, "Your commanding officer. I assume you have already met codename Surgeon." The teens nodded, and the Surgeon gave a little wave of his fingers, only the girl responding with a little wave of her own.

They teens looked at each other, then stood up one by one, the oldest being the first to initiate the movement. "I'm Tierney O'Brian," He said, holding out a hand, which The Commander took in a firm handshake.

The girl was next, "Evelien Diederick," She said, the accent still present.

"You are German?" The Commander asked.

"On my mozher's side," Evelien said proudly, "I was born zere, and moved here zhree jears ago." That would mean she had one every single racing championship since she had moved. Interesting.

"Ryan Blaire," Said the black haired boy, also shaking The Commander's gloved hand. "Really neat to be here, by the way." Something about the calculating look Ryan gave him made The Commander nervous. It reminded him too much of the look the Surgeon got when he found one of the living machines' cadavers.

The teens sat down again, the Surgeon pulling up a chair to sit on the side. The Commander grabbed a remote from the table, pressing the power button. A projector came to life with a little whirr, and The Commander stepped off to the side so as not to block the presentation.

He grimaced a little as he heard Evelien whisper to one of the boys, "Jou vould zhink zhat vith all zhe high-tech zhings around here, zhey vould have somezhing more advanced zhan a projector."  
There was a low chuckle, quickly cut off by a glare from the MECH second in command.

He pressed another button on the remote, and the MECH emblem appeared. "This, my dear recruits, is highly sensitive material that you can never speak of to anyone outside of this building, understood?" The teens nodded. "Good," He pressed the 'next' button, and an image of an F-16 appeared. "You know what this is, correct?"

"An F-16," Responded Ryan immediately. "Fighting Falcon." He squinted at the image, brow furrowing. "But that one looks weird..."

"You are correct, Mr. Blaire. This one is special, because this one can also look like _this_." He pressed the 'next' button again, and an image of a tall, sleek, silver and red mecha appeared. "This is Starscream, one of many visitors to our planet known as Cybertronians." The teen stared at the picture with expressions ranging from surprise to suspicion.

"Jou expect us to believe zhat?" Evelien snorted. "Vhat a load of crap." She looked up at the ceiling. "Zhis is ridiculous." She felt a hand on her shoulder, and looked over to see Tierney looking at her.

"Listen first, judge them after you have all the facts." The blonde young man nodded at The Commander to continue.

"They are a race of autonomous robotic beings—" There was a scoff, but the MECH second ignored it. "—from the planet Cybertron. They have the unique and useful ability to scan any vehicle similar in shape and mass to themselves, and transform into that shape at will. Useful for hiding, and why knowledge of their existence hasn't gotten out." He paused, clicking to the next slide. "They are currently divided into two factions, Decepticon, a good example of which is our dear Starscream, and Autobot." At this the image was replaced with that of a red and blue semi-truck. The next image showed that truck as a bipedal robot. "This is the Autobot leader, known as Optimus Prime."

"Permission to ask a question, sir?" The Commander turned from the image projected on the wall to stare at Ryan.

"Granted," He said at length.

"What is the purpose of telling us all this? What can we possibly do?"

"Quit interrupting and I'll tell you." The Commander growled. The Surgeon cast the small teen an amused glance. "We have yet to make formal contact with the leader of the Decepticons, though we have had dealings with both Starscream and a couple others." An image of a stocky blue Cybertronian appeared, closely followed by a black and purple feminine one. "We have managed to detain a couple of the Autobots, as well," Two images followed in quick succession, the first of a sleek yellow Cybertronian and then a smaller blue one. "They both escaped, but not before we managed to study them and scan their body structures for further scientific investigation."

"So vhere do ve come in?" Asked Evelien, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Yeah, aren't we a little young to enlist in a war, especially between worlds? We were told this was a single mission, not a total recruitment." Ryan added, although he looked excited, giddy even.

"I think I can explain this, Commander," The Surgeon said with a smile that was not appealing in the least. "This is my area of expertise, after all." He turned to the teens, looking them over. "You were chosen not only because of your various skills, but also _specifically_ for your age. We needed to find three individuals of your talents between the ages of sixteen and nineteen, where you are independent but also the most adaptable."

"Adaptable to what?" Ryan asked, perplexed.

"Shall we show them? It would be easier that way," The Surgeon said, turning to The Commander, who gave a small shrug. This was indeed the Surgeon's area of expertise; the Surgeon knew those mecha's like the back of his hand, he was sure. Plus, he'd probably just take them anyway.

The odd group of masked first lieutenant, maniacal surgeon, and three teenagers of varying levels of confusion filed down the hallway. The Commander started heading towards the hangars, but was stopped by the Surgeon's hand on his shoulder. "They were moved to the main room," The Surgeon said with a small smirk. The Commander wondered briefly why the Surgeon was always smirking.

So, The Commander instead headed towards he main room, which was the largest room available in the base, the place where Silas would usually address the operatives and give orders. They entered through the main door, and the teens almost tripped over themselves in surprise.

"_Vhat_ is _zhat_?" Evelien asked in surprise, running over to the railing to lean over and stare at the three mecha-structures. "It's beautivul!"

Ryan quickly followed, gaping at the one that caught his eye. "It's aerodynamic, has wings, and _totally has my name on it._ Is it mine?" The Surgeon quickly checked that the teen was fawning over the correct frame before nodding. "OhmygoodnessIthinkI'minlove—"

Tierney was the most composed of the trio of teens, blinking down at the mechas, perplexed. "What are they?" He asked after awhile, turning to watch The Commander in curiosity.

"They are your mecha-structures," The Commander answered. "If you accept our proposal, you will be... _using_ them in our battle with the Cybertronians."

Tierney considered this for a moment, examining the frames. "They look like Cybertronians themselves," He said after awhile. "Is there a reason?"

"Our war—if it can be called that—is one of technology. The most advanced side will be victorious. Against a race of naturally advanced beings _made_ of technology, our only hope is to fight fire with fire." A total lie, The Commander knew. Well, part of it, at least. He had told the truth about the war; it was of technology, but not entirely against the Cybertronians. Of course, they couldn't just come out and tell these teens that they were an activist group bent on world domination. No, that could just stay a secret.

"How are they operated?" Tierney asked, once again mulling over what The Commander had said. The young man was always carefully considering everything everyone said, a good trait in a leader, but a bad one in a soldier. He would have to be watched.

The Surgeon chose to answer that one, stepping up to Tierney with a big grin. He tapped his temple once, "The mind, of course," He said. "The proposal is this—gather around, kiddies, I don't want to repeat myself—if you accept, your minds will be transferred into these bodies. You will have full control over them, complete use of all senses, everything." He swept an arm out, pointing. "You'll also be able to utilize their power of transformation," He added. The teens all turned to look where he was pointing, and watched as one of the hangar doors opened. Two vehicles were driven in, and an aircraft was towed in on a large truck bed.

Ryan snorted, "An F-16? How original." At the same moment Evelien gawked, "Oooh, a Koenigsegg! Second fastest car in zhe vorld!"

The girl turned to The Commander, laughing, "Vho gets zhe truck? No, vait, don't tell me, it's zhe farmboy, isn't it?"

"I'll take it that means you two agree?" The Surgeon smiled, rubbing his hands together. "Wonderful."

"Well, that depends, doctor," Ryan said, turning to look at the taller man. "What happens to our human bodies? Is this permanent? And what are the risks? I _really_ don't feel like dying."

The Commander glared at the Surgeon. They hadn't discussed that, yet. So, the Surgeon took it upon himself to come up with the answers. He was doing that a lot, lately. He liked the power. "Yes, I regret to inform you the change is permanent. The risks are minimal, you won't be doing much more than escorting troops and mining for Energon, the fuel for these bodies."

Ryan and Evelien hesitated, looking between the two MECH officers and the frames that lied behind them. "Vell," Evelien started, "I for one am liking zhe idea of being a Koenigsegg Agera R and protecting zhe vorld. Jou can count me in."

Ryan nodded, "I second that motion, for the reasons stated. I am also quite liking the thought of having flight capabilities and being a hero."

They all turned to Tierney, who was leaning against the railing, arms crossed. "What about you, farmboy?" Ryan asked, smirking at the taller boy. "You up for some 'bot smashing?"

Tierney was silent, staring intently at the large teal frame. Eventually, he spoke, turning to regard the others meditatively. "I'll do it," He said, "For my family."

Evelien once again hesitated, "Zhat's right! Vhat about our families? Vhat do ve tell zhem?"

"That has been taken care of," The Surgeon quickly said, steely gaze staring the girl down. "Your parents have been told what we can tell them, and nothing more." The three teens looked at each other, then shared a collective shrug.

The Surgeon clapped his hands together, his grin splitting his face like a ray of sunshine, though it was in no way warm. "Splendid! We can begin training right away."

The Commander raised an eyebrow at the Surgeon's outburst, but didn't say anything. No need to let the subjects know that there have been power struggles going on between high-ranking 'government' agents. "You were all chosen for your specific skills," The second in command said, "So that you could work together—and with us—as a team, to further our efforts in the war."

The Surgeon nodded, "The scout," He said, pointing to Evelien. "Speed and evasive tactics." He did the same for Ryan, "Air support and strategy." He turned to Tierney, smile turning into a grin. "Combat and leadership."

"Vhy is he leader?" Evelien groaned, "Maybe I vant to be leader!"

The Surgeon snorted, "He was picked to be leader, you were picked to be scout and medic. Don't argue with your commanding officers."

Evelien blinked in confusion, "Medic? But jou said I vas scout! Now I am medic, as vell?"

"One of you has to have some sort of medical knowledge. Mr. O'Brian is going to be your commander when you are in the field," The Surgeon explained, "He can't be bothered with anything other than leading and protecting you. Mr. Blaire will mostly assisting from the air, meaning he won't be around. That leaves you, Miss Diederick." The teenage girl pouted, but didn't argue.

"So, when do we begin?" Ryan asked.

"The first transfer is on Wednesday, but you will begin basic training immediately." The Commander said, finally managing to contribute. "Basic training will include as much intel as possible on the Cybertronians and training specific for each of you." He looked at each teen in turn. "That means medical training for Miss Diederick, advanced strategy for Mr. Blaire, and combat for Mr. O'Brian."

"Vhy does _he _get combat training?" Evelien groaned again. She was starting to get on The Commander's nerves, with all her whining.

"You all will be trained in some sort of combat after you have adapted completely to the transfer," The Surgeon said, "But for now the only special training Mr. O'Brian needs is combat. He's already got the leadership part down, from what I've heard, which is why I picked him. Though you will report to us as your commanders—" The Commander himself scowled behind his mask. "—Mr. O'Brian will be your commandant in the field."

"Alright, zhen, he vill be our _Herr Leutnant._" Evelien gave a little giggle, patting Tierney on the shoulder. "Are ve going to get started or vhat?"


	2. Designate

_.:Commander's Log—Entry 2:._

_ Unknown date._

_ Something's wrong—I don't know what to believe anymore. We still have yet to make formal contact with the Cybertronians, but something still feels off. I overheard the Commander and Surgeon talking about someone named 'Silas' and something called 'MECH', and the things they said about what he'll do when he 'wakes up' don't sound pleasant in the least, for both us and the Cybertronians. I have yet to ask Rollcue and Blockade about what they think about all this, but knowing them they'll just dismiss it as paranoia. I need to keep them safe, but I can't if they don't listen to me. I need to figure out more about this Silas character before I act. Judge only once you have all the facts._

* * *

"You all will be trained in some sort of combat after you have adapted completely to the transfer," The Surgeon said, "But for now the only special training Mr. O'Brian needs is combat. He's already got the leadership part down, from what I've heard, which is why I picked him. Though you will report to us as your commanders—" The Commander himself scowled behind his mask. Again with the 'us'? "—Mr. O'Brian will be your commandant in the field."

"Alright, zhen, he vill be our _Herr Leutnant._" Evelien gave a little giggle, patting Tierney on the shoulder. "Are ve going to get started or vhat?"

The Surgeon nodded, "You're coming with me. We'll start with repairing circuitry and then move onto..." The Surgeon's voice trailed off as the two walked away, heading for the engineering wing of the base. The Commander turned on his heel, beckoning Ryan to follow.

"One of the commandos will assist you with combat," He explained. "We will all rendezvous in the interrogation room for further debriefing on the Cybertronians at 1700 hours." That left about five hours for training. He gave a nod, and they were gone.

Tierney leaned back against the railing, trying to relax his shoulders—he hadn't even realized how tense he was. His gaze once again trailed to the teal machine that his mind would soon be inhabiting. So much could change in the next few days, it made the young man wonder what _would_ stay the same. He hoped he would be doing greater good as one of these special agents or if he could still back out and join the Coast Guard. He would be saving lives either way, but the latter option would ensure him maintaining a human life with less danger.

Of course, he had already agreed. Not for the glory, or the power, but because he felt compelled to do it for his family—the family that was no longer alive. His mother had died side-by-side with his father, at war. His older brother had followed soon after. He was left alone, old enough to fend for himself in the eyes of the law. He had seen an opportunity arise when the agents had appeared on his doorstep, telling him he had been chosen for a special mission. He had initially declined, afraid of meeting his family's fate—the reason he had decided to enlist in the Coast Guard rather than the military. Maybe he could make them proud of him, he thought, saving lives. They had persuaded him with tales of grandeur, something he wasn't as interested in as they believed. He only did it because he was lonely.

Tierney decided he was hoping this team, this ragtag group of teens younger than him, could become a family of sorts. He would protect them as best he could, and maybe they would respect him like a brother. Maybe. The dark-blonde shook his head, running a hand over his face. Not likely to happen, he decided.

Finally, one of the agents appeared by his side, waiting for him to follow. Tierney straightened up, calm brown eyes focusing on the masked face. Why did they wear masks? He would ask later. He was lead in the direction Evelien and Ryan had previously been headed, and as he passed various rooms he fancied he could hear his future-teammates' lessons.

"And this," The Surgeon would be saying, "Is a Cybertronian main circuit. Now, you see here it's severed. You just take your arc welder and... Good, wonderful. Now fix this one, here, and this one, there." Alternatively, it could also be the Commander, "You are outnumbered, three-to-one. Miss Diederick is injured and unable to retreat without assistance. Mr. O'Brian is currently engaged in combat, and unable to help. What are your options?" This produced a small smile from the young man—something he hadn't done in quite some time. Their team would certainly be an odd one.

Tierney was brought out of his thoughts by the agent telling him they had arrived at the training sector. He was dragged into a room where he was hastily shoved a pile of training clothes—a pair of gray cargo pants and a white tank-top. After getting into the clothes, he was told to wait.

The training room was spacious enough, and if anything looked more like an old re-purposed storage room, complete with leftover crates and a haphazard pile of scrap metal in the corner. Curiosity had always been one of Tierney's weak points, and after a minute of waiting, he walked over to the pile. He started sifting through it, examining the odd pieces.

Most were singular panels, with smooth edges and rounded features, although some looked like they had been cut apart. Likewise, most were either black or purple, although there was one small chunk of burnt metal that appeared to be a dark blue color instead. The largest sheet of metal was about as wide as Tierney was tall, and tapered to a point like a wing. It was thin, with smaller panels along the side that met the point at an angle. In all reality, it probably was a wing.

A shuffling noise behind the teen made him whirl around in surprise, just in time to dodge a punch to the face. Instead it struck him a glancing blow on the shoulder. Instinct kicked in, and Tierney grabbed at his assailant around the arm, shoving him away. He recognized his attacker as a very large and strong looking agent.

He was about to ask what was going on, but was struck hard in the side with a kick, knocking the wind out of him. His dark brown eyes narrowed at the agent, who radiated smugness. Time for the gloves to come off. Tierney rushed forward, feinting to the left then rolling to the right, jumping up in time to block another kick and deliver a hard punch to his opponent's abdomen. He managed to dodge another punch, only to jump right in front of another. The blow caught him in the jaw, and Tierney spun with the impact, using the momentum to kick the agent in the back. The blow sent his opponent crashing to the ground, and Tierney took up a defensive stance.

"You've had training before, yes?" The commando stood up and brushed himself off. "You fight well, you have good instinct."

Tierney had heard it all before. "I've completed basic training." He said, rubbing his jaw sorely. That's going to bruise, he thought glumly, but I can live with it.

"You need to work on your defense," The agent continued, "You're too busy trying to predict your opponent's next move to protect yourself."

Tierney was rushed at again, and he raised an arm above his head to block the attack—only for the agent to strike at his side instead. Tierney twisted to the side, narrowly avoiding the blow that would have either thrown him off balance or knocked him off his feet. He grabbed the commando's forearm, spinning and using the agent's momentum against him, kicking a out and tripping him. The agent fell—hard—but Tierney didn't stop to gloat. Briefly, he wondered if Evelien and Ryan were having as much difficulty as him.

* * *

Ryan thought for a moment, staring at the battle plan. Three pawns on the board represented himself and his future-teammates, and various other pieces represented both Autobots and Decepticons alike—currently only the Decepticon pieces were in play. He had been given a quick bio for each character that the agency knew of, and as much as they knew about them, and was currently working on his strategy. From what he could see, they were outnumbered by at least double their numbers. Their quarry was behind the wall of Decepticons that were present on the board. The mission? Get the quarry and get out with as little damage as possible.

"We could send Evelien out around to the left to lead them away," Ryan said after a moment of deliberation, "Once they are unawares, Tierney could go about the other direction and go after the whatever-it-is. I could come in as an added distraction, they wouldn't be expecting a full-on assault at close range from me." As he spoke, the dark-haired boy moved the pieces about to indicate the plan.

"And if they notice Tierney making off with the Energon?" The Commander asked, rotating a few of the Decepticon pieces to represent the action.

"If I am able I can come at them while their backs are turned," Ryan replied immediately, "But if I am otherwise engaged Evelien could work just as well in my place."

"And if both of you are busy?"

"Tierney's a big boy, he could drop the Energon and take on a few 'cons, couldn't he?" Ryan snorted, "And what about you guys? I always have the option for calling in some backup, right?"

The Commander shook his head, "With you three head-on combat should always be the last plan you use, understood? You are a scouting team, and though you are being trained in combat that is only for emergency use." He scowled, rubbing his temples. This kid was always asking questions. "Never just assume you can have backup. Backup is _also_ a last resort."

Ryan pouted, then considered the board again, resetting it back to the pieces' original positions. "I can provide an aerial distraction, rushing at them and doing a couple fly-overs. Evelien can approach from the left, like before, and sneak around while they're preoccupied—the same with Tierney on the right." He considered his next options carefully. "Evelien would be the one to grab the Energon, she's the fast one and can make a quicker getaway. Tierney can cover her back."

The Commander nodded, "Better, but you still have the same problem."

"With this situation it is almost impossible for them _not_ to notice us," Ryan argued. "The best be can do is get as close as we are able and the make off with the loot as fast as possible." He gestured to the board, "Plus, there are always other factors—terrain and weather and it all depends on if the Decepticons are standing guard or otherwise occupied."

"Good, now you're considering everything." The board was replaced with a screen showing a landscape. Small symbols scattered the mountainous area, once again representing the teens and the Decepticons. "Now... what are your options?"

* * *

"Zhere." Evelien leaned back from the two sheets of metal, now welded together down the middle with a quick and precise line. The teen tilted the tinted mask away from her face, regarding the Surgeon thoughtfully before removing the welding gloves. "How is zhat?" She pushed the two sheets across the table over to where the man sat, then waited patiently while he examined the weld carefully, removing a pair of goggles to see better..

"Not bad," He said at length, "But the weld's too thin here in the middle," He pointed, and Evelien leaned forward to get a better look. "So it's weaker than the rest. You have to make sure it's an even weld otherwise it might bend or break under stress."

The brunette considered his response, nodding, "Alright zhen, I vill remember zhat. Vhat is next?"

"You do it again, but right this time." He reached under the table and grabbed another pair of metal sheets, dropping them in front of Evelien with a clatter. She scrutinized the metal critically, hazel eyes glaring.

With a huff, she lowered the tinted welding mask back over her face, returning the gloves to her hands. "Vine," The arc welder came on with a spark and a _whoosh_ of flame, sending up sparks the moment the blaze met the metal. The Surgeon's goggles were back on his face, and he watched with uncharacteristic patience while the girl used the dangerous tool. Once she had once again finished and given the metal to him for another inspection, which was this time met with approval, he stood up.

"You are next going to get acquainted with the basic structures of your future patients, including yourself." He walked over to a table, opening and switching on a computer the teen hadn't noticed was there before. Evelien decided she wasn't the most observational of people. The laptop was plugged into another archaic projector that was then aimed towards the wall opposite Evelien. Once powered on, an image of the teal mecha-structure from before appeared.

It was a mere skeletal image, just the basic metal frame minus all the armor and fancy plating. Evelien studied the picture carefully, hazel eyes flickering over the metal limbs and the diagrams with interest. "Are jou going to explain any ov zhis or do I get to vigure it out myself?" The Surgeon permitted himself a quiet chuckle.

"This will be Mr. O'Brian's frame," He explained, "You much familiarize yourself with it so that you can fix it up in an emergency." The image was altered to include circuitry, then Energon lines, then the armor, and the image was once again stripped to the 'bare bones'.

"Is zhere going to be a test?" Evelien teased, features twisting into a broad grin. This was met with a sly smirk.

"Yes, there is."

* * *

By the end of the day, Tierney was sure these weren't normal military officers. Their style of fighting was reminiscent of various forms of martial arts with a mixture of what could only be assumed was wrestling, which was odd. Tierney had already completed basic training the year before—he knew the moves, and what he had learned and fought against was most certainly not that. This made him suspicious, but he dismissed it. This was a secret faction of the government dedicated to fighting against _aliens_, of course things would be different.

Still, Tierney was worried. Even the building they were currently residing in was odd, with ever other hallway marked with an unfamiliar symbol. The weapons and uniforms were also strangely foreign, but that could also be marked off for the reasons previous stated. He met up with his new teammates in their quarters. The two younger teens were already there, sitting on the edge of one of the makeshift beds, talking animatedly. That's all the two seemed to do whenever they were in the same room; talk. They could chatter about anything and everything for a seemingly infinite amount of time.

Evelien looked up when he walked in, face lighting up. "Ah, good, jou are here!" She stood up quickly, running over and dragging him to sit on the bed opposite where the two had been sitting. "Ve vere just talking about jou!" She started to talk quickly, explaining something at a pace that the young man could barely comprehend. Ryan would occasionally interject with some extra information, but Tierney wasn't really interesting. Something on one of the shelves above them had caught his attention and—wait, _was that a camera?_

"Vhat do jou zhink?"

Tierney shook his head, his train of though shattered. "I'm sorry, what?"

Evelien threw her hands into the air dramatically, sighing loudly. "Now I vill have to repeat myself—"

"We were talking about code-names," Ryan interrupted with a roll of his eyes, smirking. "The Commander and Surgeon have them, so why shouldn't we? It is necessary to protect our identities during missions, right?"

Tierney shrugged. It didn't really matter to him, "I think we'll be assigned them later on," He said anyway. It was probably true—code-names would be an important asset in protecting themselves and their families from anyone who might derive their identities from any intercepted transmission.

"I don't vant to be _assigned _a name!" Evelien snorted with broad gestures, "I vant to pick it myself!"

Ryan laughed, "Oh, and _'vhat vould jou pick?'_" He asked, imitating her accent with frightening accuracy.

Evelien hesitated, one arm held out in a mid-sweeping movement. She slowly lowered her arm, tapping her chin thoughtfully. "I don't know..." Her hazel eyes lit up once more and she donned a sly look, "How about Cybertronian names?" She proposed. "So ve can better hide our identities." After a moment, she added, "Plus, ve vill be Cybertronians ourselves soon enough, in a vay."

Ryan scooted back on the bed, leaning against the wall with his hands clasped behind his head. "Oh, yeah? And what do _you _know of Cybertronian names?" Evelien looked dejected again. "Lucky for you, though," Ryan said after a moment, "I've learned quite a few things about our Cybertronian enemies as part of my training." His face twisted into a smirk, blue eyes sparkling.

"Tell us, zhen!"

"Well, from what I've heard, they had relatively simple names in most cases." Ryan started, "There's Starscream, you remember him from the debriefing, right? The fighter jet?" The other two nodded, and the dark-haired boy continued. "There's also Optimus Prime like we were told, then there's two other Autobots, Arcee and Bumblebee, and there's also these Decepticons called Breakdown and another one called Airachnid." Ryan shrugged, "That's all I've been told so far, at least."

Tierney considered the names thoughtfully, "Seems like the names are based off of either appearance and such."

Ryan nodded, "That would make sense. From what I've been told and seen so far, Bumblebee is black and yellow, Starscream has a _pretty_ screechy voice, and Airachnid looks like a lot spider."

Evelien chuckled, the sarcasm evident in her tone, "Zhis 'Airachnid' is a spider? I _never _vould have guessed." She then quieted, thoughts abuzz with all the options.

Ryan beat her to the punch, though. "I think something aircraft-related would suit me, like Aileron, Tailslide... something like that."

"Vor me it vould be a... oh, vhat is the vord in English..." Evelien trailed off, "Vell, anyvay, in German it is a 'eine Blockade', but—"

"It's the same in English," Ryan interjected, "A blockade, I think you mean."

Evelien grinned, "Really? It's the same? Awesome."

Ryan suddenly snapped his fingers, "I got it! Rollcue, 'cause it sounds cool. Plus, barrel rolls are fun. So, it's a double-win." The two younger teens then turned to Tierney, who had been silent throughout the debate. "What about you?"

Tierney shrugged, "I don't know. I've never been the creative sort."

The duo studied him intensely. Evelien started listing first. "Sterling?"

"Or Torpid." Ryan said closely after. The dispute was on.

"Slats?"

"Trim!"

"Vertigo!"

"Drift—"

"—Or Awol—"

"I GOT IT!" Ryan suddenly crowed, pointing a finger at the taller teenager. "Echelon!"

Evelien clapped, grinning ear-to-ear, "I like it! He could be Echelon _Prime_ even, like the Autobot leader!"

Tierney hesitated, "We don't know enough about their hierarchy to just assume that a leader is named Prime," He said at length. "It could be insulting for me to take that name without the knowledge of it's origin."

Evelien waved it off, "Or it could just be a part of zhe bot's name," She said, "You know, like a last name—ve have no vay ov knowing."

Tierney was adamant, "Exactly! Without knowing all the facts we cannot judge—or in this case, assume—what the name means! It could get us in trouble later on, or—"

Ryan snorted, "In trouble with who? The bots? They're not gonna care what you're called. But whether you like it or not, you are now considered Echelon Prime to me and Evelien here, and you better get used to it." He held out a hand, palm facing the floor. "Team Echelon sound good to you two?"

Evelien scrutinized the shorter boy, "Really? Zhat's very cheesy—"

"Shut up, Blockade, just do it." Evelien shrugged, then placed her hand on top of the boy's. They both looked at Tierney expectantly.

"You know, in private, we can use our normal names," Tierney said, but he went ahead and finished the little triangle, placing his own hand on top of the others'. "But alright. I guess we're a team."

"For better or for worse!" Ryan added.

"A vamily, yes?" Evelien included, "Blockade,"

"Rollcue,"

"And Echelon—"

"—_Prime!_" Chorused two voices, breaking off into giggles. The trio then raised their hands in the air with a small cheer of, "Go Team Echelon!"

A chime interrupted their grins and laughter, signaling it was time to 'shut the hell up and sleep' as was so eloquently put by The Commander. They all crawled into their respective beds, not even bothering to get out of their training uniforms. They would get new ones in the morning, anyway.

The lights shut off on their own precisely two minutes after the initial chime. All was quiet for the duration of exactly one minute before Evelien muttered grumpily, "I still zhink that vas cheesy."

This was met with an equally grouchy, "Shut up, 'Ade."


	3. Reverie

_.:Commander's Log—Entry 3:._

_ Unknown date._

_ Events have occurred that have skewed our opinions. We don't know who to believe, but I know for sure it is not these 'agents', if they are even that. They won't let us search for Blockade, who has been missing since last night. We fear the worst. Rollcue believes he could track her, but we cannot do so from the confines of this base. We have to get out without being noticed—not an easy task when you're being watched at all times and are the size of a house. I hope we find her—and the truth—soon._

* * *

_.:Unknown, Nevada; Tuesday, 0600 Hours:._

Early morning found Ryan waking up to a blaring alarm. His immediate reaction was to grab the stiff pillow he had under his head and shove it over his ears, scuttling lower under the blanket as though to hide from the source of the noise. Something heavy landed on his chest with a _thump. T_he teen groaned, rolling over and shoving whatever it was off. "Just five more minutes..." He mumbled sleepily, still trying to hold onto that last shred of peaceful half-consciousness.

"We have training," Someone said—Tierney?—and Ryan opened one blue eye irritably. He looked down, seeing the heavy thing had been a backpack, and then back up to glare at the much taller young man.

"It's, like, four in the morning!" Ryan growled, "That's too early to be even remotely conscious." He pulled his blanket over his face, trying to block the light that had somehow been switched on.

"It's actually six," Tierney replied, "and that's normal time to wake in the military. Actually, it's even a bit late. Normal hours are usually from five until ten at night."

"Smart ass." Ryan groaned again and shoved the blanket off. "I'll get up," He said whilst sitting up, "but I'm going to bitch about it. Just a warning." He stretched, then looked over to the third bed in the room. There was a visible girl-shaped lump under the blanket. "Why isn't Evelien awake? You woke me up and didn't bother waking her up?" Ryan whined.

"Oh, she's about to." Tierney came over and retrieved his backpack from the floor, handing it to Ryan. "You want to do the honors?"

Ryan's aggravated expression turned to one of dark mirth, and he took the backpack gratefully. It might not have technically been payback for the early awakening, but it sure was satisfying to ruin another person's morning. Misery loves company, Ryan though. With an accurate swing, the teen slung the backpack in a tall arch, landing directly on the center of the other bed. There was a screech, and Evelien shot up out of the bed. The unfamiliar layout of the room worked against her, and she rolled off the bed to land in a heap on the concrete floor. She moaned, peeking over the top of the bed to glare at the two boys.

Tierney was maintaining his composure as always, but the small curve at the edge of his lips betrayed his amusement. Ryan, on the other hand, was practically rolling with laughter. Evelien grumbled, standing up and dusting herself off. "Jou suck, jou know zhat?"

Ryan waved her off with a hand, chuckling, "Yeah, yeah, I get that a lot."

There was a knock on the door, and all three looked up. An unfamiliar voice informed them that their training would be delayed another hour, and that someone would be sent to collect them later. Tierney politely thanked the agent on the other side of the door, then turned back to his teammates. They were already back at each others' throats. Tierney paused, wondering how they had already returned to fighting when he had only had his back turned for no more than ten seconds.

"Jou are a pompous, short, aggravating boy!" For a non-native English speaker

"And _you_ are an arrogant, cheeky, _freakishly_ tall girl! "

"I _like_ my height!"

"Well _I_ don't!"

"I don't care vhat jou zhink! Jou are just jealous!"

Tierney wondered if he should intervene or let them wear themselves out. He decided it would be best to shut them up before someone came to investigate. Plus, they would have to learn to work together—they were a team, after all. "Stop it, you two," He said, moving to stand between them. "this is no way for us to interact. We are a team—a _family, _as you put it, right Evelien? That means we should act like one."

The two immediately pointed at each other and started bombarding him with excuses. This went on for all of two minutes before they both ran out of breath, ending with a loud and simultaneous, "_S/HE_ STARTED IT!".

The eldest decided he needed to take a more drastic approach. "_Both_ of you shut up before I am reduced to assuming you are acting like this due to repressed attraction." This got their attention. Both slowly turned to face him, identical expressions of wariness on their faces.

"Vhat are you implying?" Evelien asked suspiciously, either not fully understanding the statement or not wanting to.

Ryan narrowed his eyes, crossing his arms, "He is trying to use the shock value of his statement to make us shut up. I can see through your ploy like a pane of glass, _Prime_." Tierney noticed that the younger boy had made it a habit to refer to his teammates with their code-names. He'd ask about that later. "It's not going to work—"

He was swiftly interrupted by a distraught girl screeching, "EWWW, NO! I do _not_ have a crush on _zhat!_" Evelien pointed an accusing finger at the shorter boy, taking a step back. "Vhat gave jou _zhat_ idea?" Tierney wasn't sure if her overblown reaction was just because she was prone to theatrics, or because she really _did_ have feelings for the boy and was just trying to lie—and failing.

Ryan sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Okay, maybe it _will,_" He paused, glaring up at the brunette girl. "on the less intelligent of us, at least." Tierney shook his head, a tiny smile on his face. Both were more entertaining then he had previously assumed. He could tell he was going to have his hands full with them, but it'd be worth it.

Evelien cast Ryan a baleful glance, then turned away with a huff. The other teens watched as she headed over to her bed, flopping down on the side. She pulled out a folder from under her pillow and started flipping through the contents.

"What are you doing?" Ryan asked suspiciously, "Where'd you get that?"

Evelien looked up for a moment, then continued looking over whatever it was. After a moment of silence, she said, "Zhey are schematics. I have a test on zhem later zhis afternoon." She flipped to the next page, then looked confused. She looked back up at Ryan, back down to the schematics, then repeated the action. After a solid minute of this, she burst into laughter.

"What? What's so funny?" Ryan growled, crossing his arms over his chest. "What are you laughing at?" Evelien pointed at one of the papers, then snatched it away from Ryan when he reached for it.

"Oh no, jou can not see it." She teased, still laughing, "It is confidential." Ryan continued trying to grab it while Evelien held it just out of his grasp using her longer arm span.

Tierney decided not to intervene, and just watched everything play out.

Eventually Ryan realized he would never manage to reach the paper unless he suddenly grew a few inches taller, and hung back. He sulked, narrowing his blue eyes and glaring at the smug girl from under dark eyelashes. "Ugh, fine. Be that way."

Evelien smirked. "Zhank jou, I vill."

"I didn't really want to know, anyway."

"Jeah, I could tell."

Deciding to take another approach, the dark-haired youth looked up at her pleadingly. "Please, 'Ade?"

"_Nein_."

"But I never say please! Just... oh, come on, _please?_"

Evelien decided to compromise, smiling evilly. "I vill tell jou, but I vill not show jou." Ryan looked about to complain, then decided it wasn't the best approach, and nodded instead. "Alright, have jou seen any pictures ov zhe Decepticon named Starscream?"

Ryan shrugged, "Just the once, during our first debriefing. Why?" Evelien's smile grew, and Ryan started to worry. It was the smile someone did when they knew some dark little secret that would ruin the other person's image. Ryan repeated his question, "Why?"

"Vell," Evelien said slowly, her Cheshire cat grin growing by the second, "Jou vill be sharing zhe same body type."

"I know, I saw the mecha structure."

"Vell, jou obviously did not see it very vell." Evelien snickered. "Let us just say zhat jou vill have some very nice hips. Und legs. Und heels."

Ryan raised an eyebrow, "H...Heels?" He stuttered, "What does that even mean?"

"Jou vill be kicking bot tailpipe... in stilettos!" Evelien fell back into laughter, and Ryan took her momentary distraction to snatch the schematics away. He took one look, and his shoulders slumped.

"What. The. HELL?" Ryan twisted the image, examining it from every possible angle. "How are stilettos even remotely relevant to this design? They aren't practical in the _least!_"

"I do not know," Evelien chuckled, "But I might reconsider liking jou if jou have legs like zhat!" For a third time, she fell back into a fight of laughter. Ryan sighed, then rubbed his temples.

"This is just great..." He took another look at the schematics. "I thought it was aerodynamic, but it's more _feminine_ than anything." Tierney came over and gave the schematics a once-over, then shrugged. It didn't really matter to him much, although Ryan did have a point. He picked up the other two papers from Evelien's side—she was still recovering from her laughing fit—and looked over them curiously.

"I don't think the term 'feminine' can actually apply to any of these," The tall blonde said after awhile. The other two looked at him curiously.

"What do you mean?"

"I think Evelien does." Tierney replied, and the girl looked confused. She mulled over the statement, then looked thoughtful.

"I zhink jou mean zhat zhe Cybertronians are genderless, yes?" Tierney nodded. "I guess zhat could be true. From vhat I have seen, zhey vouldn't reproduce like us, so that would nullify zhe need for genders. Zhey _are_ considered robots, after all."

Ryan scowled. "Just great, so now I'm only going to be male in my head. This mission is getting _better _and _better_. What else haven't these people told us?"

Little did he know, Tierney was thinking the exact same thing. Lots of questions had risen in the older teen's mind, and every time any of them tried to give an answer, more questions appeared. These agents really were rather secretive, and the trio barely knew anything about what was going to happen. Sure, they were getting training, but training as soldiers—or in Evelien's case, a medic. Tierney decided he would have to ask the Commander later.

Speaking of which...

Tierney checked his watch, noting it was now a few minutes after 6:40. They would be retrieved for training soon. Well, that is, if they could trust the word of a faceless agent they had never met that worked for people they were starting to get suspicious of. Although their suspicion was unfounded, Tierney was still on edge.

There was a knock on the door, and they were told they were going to another debriefing meeting with both the Commander and the Surgeon. Evelien gathered up the three schematics, giving them a last-minute once-over, then shoved them back into their folder. Ryan was still sulking about his new-found self-consciousness, and was stubbornly silent.

They filed out of the room and were lead by another of the masked agents. Or maybe it was an agent they had already met. It was difficult to tell. It was a relatively short walk from their shared room to the makeshift conference room. In fact, all of the rooms they had been in appeared to be re-purposed storage rooms. This set off a few warning bells in Ryan's head, the paranoia that had plagued the teen for his entire life hitching into overdrive. But what did he know of highly-confidential military factions?

To say the scene they entered into was total chaos would be an understatement. The Commander was standing over the Surgeon threateningly, his entire body obviously tense as he hissed something too quietly for any of the three teens to hear. The Surgeon didn't seem too bothered by anything, standing in a way that radiated calmness and confidence. He was examining his nails, and upon the trio's entrance, his steely eyes flickered over to them briefly.

The Commander quieted down when he realized there was now an audience. They were about to sit down at a table—one of the only pieces of furniture in the dull room—but were quickly ordered to stay standing. "This isn't going to take long," The Commander explained, "there has been a change of plans." Tierney narrowed his eyes. That didn't sound good... "Some Cybertronians have made an appearance, too close for comfort." Not good, at all. Right? "We've had to move along a bit faster than previously expected. Rather than start the transfer tomorrow, we've decided it is necessary to start today."

Silence.

It wasn't an awkward silence, or a stunned silence. It was just silence. There wasn't anything to say. Except, of course...

Who was going to be first? Ryan, being the egoist he was, would of course volunteer to be first. Then again, it could stand to reason to be second, so as to make sure the process was safe. He wouldn't risk his hide for the other two just yet. Then there was the matter of _Tierney_. The eldest would probably beat him to the punch of volunteering to be first, anyways. He was the 'leader', after all. It was his job. Ryan wasn't necessarily thrilled at the concept of having to listen to some farmboy, even if he was leader and the oldest of them all. Ryan hadn't listened to anyone but himself for a long time.

This wasn't the smartest of strategies, coming from a strategic specialist. Of course, Ryan was a pilot first, and a strategist second. And even _before_ that he was an opportunist. If it didn't benefit Ryan in some way, he didn't do it. That was another reason he wasn't happy with following Tierney's lead. He'd have to actually_ obey_ the older boy's order _just because he was leader. _That, naturally, didn't sit well with Ryan. He'd find a way to be leader, some how. _He_ was the better choice! _He_ had the air superiority! _He_ was the strategist! _He—_

Ryan was brought out of his reverie by someone snapping their fingers in front of his face. He went cross-eyed as he focused on the offending hand, batting it away. Tierney dropped his hand to his side as he turned back to face the two commanding officers before him. Ryan straightened up, trying to look impassive.

"Were you _listening_?" The Commander leveled the short boy with a glare that was apparent, even behind the mask he wore.

"Of course." Ryan replied smoothly, "I would benefit from a synopsis of the conversation so as to achieve a full understanding of what has gone on, though." Evelien snickered, and Ryan glanced at her from the corner of his eye, casting her a bright smirk. Evelien quickly looked away, and Ryan's smirk grew.

"We were discussing," The Commander growled, "what is going to happen over the course of the next few days." Ryan fidgeted a little where he was standing, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. Oh. That wasn't good. Ryan's silver tongue decided to fail him, then. He resorted for the blunt approach, trying to get out of further scrutinizing.

"And that would be...?"

"We don't have the time for repetition," The Surgeon said, "Your teammates can fill you in. We have to get you prepped!" The Commander looked at the Surgeon, but none of the kids could tell if it was an appreciative or glowering look. Judging from the interactions between the two they had seen so far, it was most likely the latter.

They were ushered out of the room by another of the agents—or was it the same one? Ryan still wasn't sure. Although it wouldn't matter to him, anyway. Ryan was about to ask for an update on the situation, but didn't get the chance when two more agents came and directed Evelien and Tierney in different directions.

"Hey, wait, where are they—"

"You all will be prepped in different locations," The operative said, "you will have a chance to speak with them afterward."

"But I need to speak with them now!" He wasn't about to admit that his predicament was entirely his fault, but he could try and at least glean a little information from the agent. "I was unable to discern what is going to happen from my conversation with the Commander; you're going to have to fill me in on the way."

"I'm afraid that is not possible."

Ryan decided he didn't like working with government agents. At all.

* * *

This chapters a bit shorter than the others... although that first chapter was really long, so I can't really compare the two. Anyway, thanks for the wonderful reviews! They really make my day, and it's nice to hear what you all think~

I found this chapter a little hard to write, for some reason. I'll probably find the next chapter even harder, but that's alright. That's the chapter where things start to pick up and get exciting!

This chapter gave us the opportunity to delve into the mind of Ryan Blaire, aka Rollcue, in a limited—rather than omniscient—point of view. I will be switching between each of the trio every chapter or so, giving us a chance to really figure each them out. (I like fleshing out characters. Can you tell?)

I hope you're all enjoying the story so far, and I'd love to hear some constructive criticism on the characters and worldbuilding. What do you guys think of everything so far? Do you like the characters? Do you _not_ like any of the characters? Who's point of view would you like to read in the next chapter? I'd love to hear it!

Happy Seeking!

_Hypersonic, over and out~_


	4. Nexus

_.:Commander's Log—Entry 4:._

_ [Database Error]_

* * *

When Evelien woke up, she immediately knew something was wrong. For one thing, she couldn't move. For another, she couldn't see—or _feel—_anything. Even more disturbing was that she couldn't remember where she was. In fact, the last thing she could definitively remember was arguing with Ryan. No surprise there. It seemed like she couldn't get through a conversation with the shorter boy without finding something to bicker about.

Resisting the urge to panic, Evelien took a less self-destructive route. Going through her very extensive list of expletives in a number of languages, Evelien tried to assess her situation. Which was easier said than done, she realized a moment later, when you couldn't actually see. Or hear. Or feel. In fact, none of her senses were working.

Taking another moment to collect her thoughts, she once again ran through her list of expletives, even going so far as to curse Ryan. She blamed him. It _had_ to be his fault. There wasn't any other logical explanations. And if it really wasn't his fault... she didn't want to think that far into the future. As far as she was concerned, the only option was it was his fault.

_Woah... Since when did I know so many profanities?_

Evelien's brain froze. That wasn't her thought. She didn't think that. That wasn't her voice. Although, really it wasn't a voice, per say, it was just a thought that had drifted through her mind. But she didn't think that. Where did it come from? She wouldn't have thought in English... or wondered why she knew so many expletives, either.

_And since when did I know German?_

_ Was zum Teufel ist da los?_

There was a noticeable pause, and then Evelien felt confused. But it wasn't _her_ confusion. It was a detached feeling of confusion, as though it came from an outside source. Then she felt a bout of irritation.

_Hold on... Blockade?_

There was only one person she knew who called her that. And that was—

_…Ryan?_

_ WELL WHO ELSE WOULD IT BE? AND WHAT ARE YOU DOING IN MY HEAD? AND WHERE THE HELL DID YOU ACCENT GO?_

_ It took an extended vacation to the Bahamas. And I'm not in _your_ head. You're in mine._

_ YOUR head? YOU'RE in MY head!_

_ I am not!_

_ Are too!_

_ I am NOT!_

_ Would you both just_ _calm down_ _and think for a moment?_

_ SHUT UP, PRIME. NO ONE ASKED YOU. _

Another, more noticeable pause punctuated by a lengthy moment of awkwardness. Evelien started to feel crowded in her own head, another new feeling. She didn't like it. She decided to employ her mastery over sarcasm to better display her distaste for the situation.

_So, Tierney, too? Now I have the _both _of you in my head? Just wonderful. I can't remember anything, I can't move, and I have you idiots in my brain. This just can't get_ any _better._

_ This is a... bizarre situation for sure, but I think it'd be best if we all just stayed calm and tried to figure out what is happening. _Evelien could sense the forced composure and uneasiness that was no doubt being radiated by Tierney. From Ryan, really all there was was a deep set feeling of irritation. Nothing new, then. Oh, wait, there was hysteria, too.

_All that's supposed to be happening is we wake up and BAM, we're robots. Maybe they made a mistake... Maybe we're DEAD. Oh, god, I'm too young to die! I had plans! I was going to be President! I was— _

Evelien was confused. Again. _I thought we were having that transfer-thingy tomorrow. Why wasn't I told about this change of plans?_

Tierney was the one to reply, Ryan's hysterical speech of foiled plots drifting into white-noise in the back of her mind. _Evelien, we_ were _alerted. You don't remember? We had a meeting with the Commander and Surgeon and they told us the entire situation. _

_ The last thing I remember is fighting with Ryan over something stupid._

_ Right... okay. Well, sorry to say, but you seem to have lost all memories of the past six hours or so. _

_ Oh, no shit? _Evelien was enjoying her sarcasm. Maybe a little to much.

_WOULD YOU TWO STOP BEING SO NONCHALANT ABOUT THIS AND PAY ATTENTION?_Ryan screamed—how he managed to think so loudly was beyond her. Evelien would have covered her ears if it weren't for the fact they were conversing within their own minds. Or her mind. She couldn't really tell. That in itself was a disconcerting thought—she couldn't discern her own mind from Tierney or Ryan's, now. In fact, she could barely tell who's emotions she was feeling. But Ryan had a point; maybe they were being a little too nonchalant about everything... _It's bad enough that I have you and the German Wonder stuck in my head, but if you two continue to express such a lack of concern for our current situation I'm afraid I'm going to have to resort to drastic measures!_

_ Oh, like what, Ryan? If you haven't noticed, we can't really do much more than think at the moment. But, if you have an actual suggestion as how to improve our situation, I'm all ears. Figuratively, of course. _

Evelien had to give the farmboy some credit. He knew his way around an argument. Ryan was silent for a good length of time. Or, at least she thought it was a long time. She couldn't really tell, like a lot of things, she was discovering. She wasn't really enjoying the sudden variability of everything.

_Well..._ Ryan said after awhile. _You're the leader, you're supposed to come up with a plan!_

Evelien snorted in disdain, although technically it was a sound in her head that was the mental counterpart to a snort of disdain. _But you said you wanted to be leader, and you _are_ the strategist. Planning is your job._

_ I never said I wanted to be leader. You're mistaken._

_ You were thinking it while Tierney and I were talking 'nonchalantly', and I quote 'this wouldn't have happened if I was the leader, and not that stupid farmboy.' I actually was paying attention to your little pity rant, you know._

_ I did not._

_ Did too. _

_ Maybe _you_ thought it and confused it with me thinking it. _

_ You're an idiot, I see that now. What did I ever see in you? Or a better question would be, what did I _think_ I saw in you?_

_ HEY, I—wait, what? What did you think you saw in me? _

Evelien would have rolled her eyes if she could. _I'll tell you later, but right now we need a plan, shorty. Could you oblige? Please?_

_ Well... since you asked so nicely..._

Tierney's amusement over the exchange was evident, as was Evelien's smugness. _I would reprimand you for using your female charm against a fellow teammate, but since it's working so nicely I'm going to let it slide just this once._

_ Pay attention, Prime, I don't want to repeat myself. _

_ We're listening, Ryan, no worries. We couldn't escape your pontificating if we tried, at this point. _

_ SHUT UP, PRIME—_

Evelien didn't need a woman's intuition to know a fight was about to break out. _Focus. The plan, Ryan?_

_ Right... I think we are currently in some kind of stasis. Our minds are active, but our bodies are still offline. What do you think, Blockade? _

Evelien was once again confused, trying to understand why he would want her opinion. _What would I know?_

_ You are the medic. This seems to be something that you would know. Or did you forget your lessons already? _The scornful tone of that last statement was not lost on the girl, and she managed to focus a bout of anger at the boy. He responded with a feeling of hurt. Or mock hurt. She couldn't really tell that, either.

_I haven't. In fact, that's one of the few things I do remember... I just wasn't taught anything about being in stasis upon activation. I thought it would be just like waking up. No problems, and all that._

_ Well, obviously not._

_ Hey, I don't need you to state the obvious!_

_ Apparently you do._

_ Please, stop with the bickering. Ryan, what would you suggest, since you seem to be the one who knows about this kind of thing? _Tierney was once again shoved into the occupation of peace-keeper. He seemed to be doing that a lot. Evelien didn't like it.

_Well... I think a manual boot up should do the trick. _

_ What the hell does that mean? _That sounded like some kind of technical lingo the nerds at her school would say. Evelien tended to stay away from anything mechanical that wasn't an automobile. Computers and such hated her.

_ Language, Evelien. _

_ It's my head, I'll say what I want._

_ It's my head too. _Evelien had to admit, that was true. Not that she'd _actually_ admit it, though.

_ Not my problem._

_ Actually, it kind of is. _

_ Shut up, Ryan. This isn't your fight._

_ Well, you're also in _my _head, so it kind of is. _Another valid point. It just wasn't Evelien's day for arguing. She could tell Tierney was quickly growing irritated, a vast change of emotion from the huge amount of composure he had previously maintained. Not that she cared. Evelien did what she wanted, and in this case, it was annoying the shit out of her new teammates whilst in their heads. Or was it her head?

_Okay, so manual boot up. What do you mean?_

_ Well, we'll have to figure out how to individually activate our systems. Or whatever they are. I have no idea, it's really just a hunch._

Evelien still didn't understand a word he said. Really, she hated techno babble. It wasn't her thing. Driving was her thing, not thinking brainy thoughts. _Oh, and how's that going to work? I just think, 'Activate Systems' and things start happening? _Surprisingly—or not, depending on perspective—things started happening.

Evelien's vision flared to life. Or what she counted as her vision. Really it was more like a movie behind closed eyelids. Symbols flashed, scrolling past rapidly. She couldn't read whatever it was, but it looked promising so far. The only thing that looked remotely unnerving was the little red message in the corner that was flashing. She couldn't read that either, but it likely wasn't important. Or, she hoped it wasn't.

_Woah, that's something. _

_ What? Did it actually work? I mean... of course it would work! Why wouldn't it, right? Heh._

_ You're a terrible liar, you know that, Ryan?_ Tierney's amusement was taken as an offense, and the two promptly started bickering again. Evelien allowed it to once again drift into background noise, focusing instead on whatever was happening with her.

Evelien was quite happy to realize she had started to feel. She could tell she was lying down on something. It was slightly cold, but not uncomfortably so. She could also tell it was metal. That was promising. Next, Evelien could hear. There wasn't really much to hear, just the sounds of machines whirring and some random voices conversing quietly. She couldn't really tell what they were saying, but that wasn't important, either.

When her vision truly did come to life, all she saw was blurred lights and a high ceiling. Everything came into focus after a second, and Evelien took a moment to admire how crystal clear everything was. She had never had the best vision, but it hadn't been too poor, either. Just not as perfect as she'd have liked. Now, however...

"Wow, it's like watching one of those fancy plasma TV screens..." Her voice sounded different, too. Not that that was a big problem, just weird. Very weird.

"Oh, you're awake."

Evelien managed to turn her head to take a look at the agent who had spoken. The feminine voice indicated the agent was a woman, the first female commando Evelien had seen at the base so far. She looked... smaller? Evelien stared. The woman looked so... tiny.

Next Evelien belatedly realized everything had a reddish tint, as though she was looking through a pare of colored glasses. She sluggishly lifted a hand to her face, and realized that actually was the case. That was also weird. She once again turned her head to face the agent with a questioning look, pointing to whatever was on her face.

"It's a visor," The agent explained, "it is designed to aid you with your duties."

"Like what?"

The agent began to speak again, but Evelien wasn't listening. A strange feeling in her chest had distracted her from the conversation. The teen slowly began to realize she was literally feeling _feelings_ in her chest, where she assumed her heart—or the Cybertronian equivalent—would be. So she hadn't been witnessing Tierney and Ryan's feelings in her mind, after all, but rather in her heart. Things were getting weirder and weirder. Closer analysis on the emotions and she deduced that both Tierney and Ryan had managed to reboot their own systems and were currently online.

Evelien shook her head, realizing her little internal epiphany had drowned out the woman's explanation. "Uh, could you say that again?"

The commando gave her a glare—well, Evelien _thought_ it was a glare; it was difficult to tell behind the woman's mask. "The visor will help with medical scans, Energon scouting, and communications, among other things."

"Does it have internet?" Evelien joked.

"Yes, it does." Well, then. Evelien decided she would never be able to focus ever again, not with the internet at such an easy disposal. Then again, that would only be the case if she could figure out how to use the visor... Evelien's technical struggle was halted when the agent told her to try and sit up.

Evelien found the action easier than she had assumed it would be, and discovered she had no complications in moving at all. She stretched, arching her back just to get the feel of her new body. She decided that the cool factor outweighed the weird factor, and that she was going to enjoy being a Cybertronian. A fluttering motion behind her caught her attention, and she craned her neck to look behind her.

Two white and black doors sat on her back, reminding the teen-turned-Cybertronian of wings. She resisted the urge to reach behind and grab them, and instead focused on standing up. Also remarkably easy. There wasn't a problem with balance, or and Evelien was quite amused with how she towered over all the agents bustling about. In all reality they only came up her knees at most, and that was only for the tallest among them.

"When will I get to see Tierney and Ryan?" Evelien asked. The agent turned away from a group of screens she had been examining carefully, and the teen kneeled so as to converse more eye-to-eye—or as close as she could get to it.

"Soon. First we have to do a couple systems checks to make sure everything is functioning properly."

_That doesn't sound too discomforting._

Evelien was quite mistaken.

The systems checks consisted of wiring being connected to her, an all together uncomfortable experience in itself. Then the feeling of having an external software probing her mind and vitals so as too attain a better analysis wasn't any fun, either. Evelien decided she hated having system checks.

When she was finally lead out of the hangar-turned-operation-room, Evelien found herself not face-to-face with her teammates, but rather with a Koenigsegg. She stared at the super-car critically. She loved its design, yes, but she had no idea why the car was there, or why all the commandos were watching her expectantly. After a lengthy awkward silence, she was told that she had to scan the vehicle so as to be able to transform into it at will.

"How am I supposed to do that? I don't know how."

"Neither do we, _you're_ the Cybertronian." Was the retort.

"Not up until a few minutes ago, I wasn't."

Still, she couldn't look to the agents for any help. Inspiration dawned when she felt another bloom of emotion in her chest. Frustration, was it? Adopting a thoughtful expression, the tri-colored teen tried to access whatever little function had allowed her to converse with her teammates. In the corner of her vision a small equalizer appeared, the wavelengths spiking the moment she relayed her question.

_Hey, you two having any problems scanning a vehicle?_

_ Yeah, it's irritating as hell. I can't figure it out... Got any bright ideas there, Prime?_

_ Nothing whatsoever. _

So they weren't any help, either. Wonderful. Evelien closed the link—or whatever it was she had opened—and the equalizer disappeared. Thinking she could go about in the same manner as with the manual reboot, Evelien thought long and hard about scanning the vehicle. Nothing happened. By then the commandos that had been watching her and lost interest and were milling about, attending to various duties and agent-like activities that she wasn't all too interested in. No, once Evelien had a task, she saw it through to the end. Nothing was going to distract her from her mission. Not even the internet!

Once again, inspiration took hold of the teen. The visor! Maybe it could do something useful, like scan the schematics somehow. Acting in the same manor as she had when she brought up the mental link, she focused her attention on searching for a scanning function. Thankfully, something similar was indeed an available function on her visor. Once again focusing her attention on the vehicle before herself, she relayed a command for the scanning of the vehicle's schematics, which were then to be downloaded and installed as her alternate mode. Various images of the vehicle flicked through her vision, obscuring some of her view of the hangar she was occupying.

Once the command was complete, Evelien moved into the largest space she could find. She couldn't help but feel a sudden burst of pride at her accomplishment, even managing to channel the emotion at the two presences in the back of her consciousness. Now for the test run.

Leaving things up to instinct had always been Evelien's outlook on life—it was how she raced and how she lived. So, when faced with the complication of how to _transform_ into a _car_, she decided to leave it up to the instinct of her new body.

The command to transform into her alternate mode was one of the more obvious lines of code she had found while searching for the correct ones before, and one she had made sure to remember. So, when she suddenly lost control of her limbs and found herself twisting and rearranging, she decided to focus on something other than the overwhelming loss of control over her body. Of course, the sensation lasted only a couple seconds at most, and when she found herself in control again she wasn't exactly the same.

That went without saying, of course. She now found herself with a lower view of the world, and when the agent from before wandered over in curiosity she found herself actually looking _up _at the woman_. _The sudden and overwhelming urge to pull into reverse and drive through the hangar door and then drive as fast as possible was a very tempting proposition, but one Evelien considered a bad move on her part. The government probably wouldn't like that.

"That you, kid?" The agent asked, rapping a hand on the white and red hood experimentally. The sudden rumble of the engine sent the woman skittering backwards in surprise, but the mocking laughter that accompanied it immediately awarded her with an answer.

"Who else would it be?"

"You really don't want the answer to that."

Despite Evelien's piqued interest, she decided not to pursue the topic. Something about the way the agent had replied made her worried. Now she really wanted to go surprise Ryan with her new appearance. She wanted to see the look on his face she she strolled in there, ready to go beat down some 'bots and 'cons, rearing to race along the streets of where ever they were.

"I can go see Ryan and Tierney now, right?" The teen asked, transforming back into her more humanoid form. She enjoyed the flustered posture the agent adopted at the close proximity of her suddenly much larger form.

"Right this way." Evelien was lead through back to the previous hangar she had occupied, now devoid of all the equipment that had been stationed there. She was instructed to wait there, and the commando left her alone in the hangar.

Fiddling about with various functions of her visor, Evelien found she had various filters she could apply that would allow her to view the surrounding area in different light—literally. Infrared was the first option, which proved pointless due to the thick nature of the metal walls, but the most prominent option was an Energon scanner. Switching to that mode, she found her vision dimmed and colors inverted.

Looking around in curiosity, she switched through the filters at random, enjoying the varying views. Pausing for a moment on what she could only assume was 'night-vision', she switched back to Energon to test out a theory.

If it really was a scanner, she thought, then it should be scanning, not just adjusting her vision. As if on cue, a cross-hairs appeared in the center of her vision, accompanied by three arrows—or what she could only compare to arrows, they weren't more than just lines, really—and some more Cybertronian symbols. Unable to understand anything of what was written, Evelien assumed it was a distance, or possibly a quantity. An arrow shifted in position, and the symbols started changing at a rapid rate.

_So, it must be a distance, _she thought. The arrows was still moving, and the symbols shifting, and she could only guess that the source of the Energon—obviously one of her teammates—was coming closer. She started to get excited, eager to finally see Ryan again.

Or would it be Tierney who would come through the hangar door?

The hangar door opened, and Evelien wondered if that was the hangar door she had come through. She remember coming from that other one... didn't the one opening now lead outside? The door rose slowly from the ground, only to be ripped off its hinges before it risen more than five feet.

The Cybertronian countdown under one of the arrows completed, Evelien realized she had been very, very, _very_ stupid not to remember one valuable thing.

She only had two teammates, but her scanner had been registering three Energon signatures.

* * *

Alright, there it is, taking even longer than the previous. Life got in the way repeatedly, but I persevered. Sorry if any of you are confused, but all will be revealed... eventually, of course :P Review if you wish~ And until next time!

Happy Seeking!

Hypersonic


	5. Pursuit

_.:Commander's Log—Entry 5:._

_ [System Override Complete]_

* * *

Tierney sat across from Ryan, eyes following the other boy's movements quietly. Ryan was pacing across the room, taking long strides so that he only had to take at most five steps in either direction before turning around and continuing on. Tierney was leaned up against the wall, resting an elbow on a knee. The steady rhythm of Ryan's 'heels' was rapidly becoming an annoyance, but the teal mecha wasn't sure which was more annoying—Ryan's pacing, or his voice. If Tierney stopped the younger boy's pacing, he was positive he would be in for an ear-full of one of Ryan's tirades.

"Where is she?" Ryan screeched for perhaps the twentieth time. Really, all Ryan _could_ do was screech. The Surgeon had explained the voice altercation was a side effect of having his vocoder compressed to fit his specialized frame... or something like that. Otherwise, Ryan had taken quite well to his new body. Tierney even noticed that the silver and cyan teen would pause whenever he passed a reflective surface, most likely admiring his new figure. For someone who had protested rather loudly about his 'feminine' appearance, he was adjusting rather well. His vanity probably was assisting in that.

Tierney rolled his eyes with a shake of his head. "The Commander said she'd be here in a few minutes," He reiterated. Ryan remained indignant.

"Yeah, but that was at least ten minutes ago!" The slender teen turned to face Tierney with a scowl, wings hiked up in an aggressive posture and comically large claws twitching. It seemed Ryan's expressive nature had remained intact after the transfer, as evident by his vivacious gestures and posture. With even more appendages the teen managed to communicate his emotion even more visually, Tierney was finding.

While Ryan spoke, Tierney would watch the younger teen's wings twitch and move with each statement, his face pulling into various expressions to convey his point. It was all-in-all a rather amusing sight to the larger teen.

"Just calm down, Ryan. You could always try and communicate with her, if it's so important you speak now." The last time Tierney had bothered to actually _think_ about the crazy bond-like link the three of them had, it had been when he had inquired as to how their new bodies worked.

The Surgeon's very wordy explanation had been lost on Tierney, but he managed to understand the basics. According to the scientist, they had managed to recreate a Cybertronian life source, crude imitation though it was. That didn't exactly answer Tierney's unspoken question, but it gave him a few ideas. When he was asked if they were experiencing any side-effects that could possibly relate to the procedure, Tierney had replied with the negative. For some reason, he deemed it better to keep their link a secret for now.

Ryan considered Tierney's proposal, one long metal claw tapping his chin thoughtfully. "That's not a bad idea..." The gray and cyan teen came over to sit beside his larger teal-and-amber teammate. If they were to stand in front of each other, Ryan's head would only come up to just under Tierney's chest, although the flier's wings, when canted vertically, easily reached Tierney's own height.

"Have you figured out why we could converse easier while in stasis?" Tierney asked after a moment. Ryan observed him out of the corner of his eye, and Tierney took a moment to admire the malicious appearance of the black and red orbs. He knew his own eyes looked identical, and he could only assume that Evelien's would be the same. Their eyes had been 'recycled from Cybertronian cadavers' as was bluntly put by the Surgeon. Ryan had thrown a little fit, creeped out by the thought of his eyes having belonged to someone prior. Tierney had felt the same way, but, as always, had maintained his stoic composure. He was the leader; he had a reputation to maintain, after all.

Another question popped into Tierney's mind; why had they suddenly stopped feeling each others' emotions after they had triggered their systems, when the link had been the first thing they had noticed upon activation? What had caused it to fade?

Ryan's answer gave some insight into his questions, thought it was only one of the possibilities. "I think it's because we were more focused on the bond while in stasis, and without senses we were able to concentrate without any distractions." Ryan spoke slowly and hesitantly, as though he were actually unsure of what he was saying. Tierney couldn't help but think that was unusual for the younger teen, who was always so confident in his own knowledge. What was making him act to out of character?

"Maybe. Have you had any success in contacting Evelien?" Tierney stretched an arm up to relieve a bit of tension, accidentally scraping it against the metal of the wall and evoking a sharp screech of metal grinding against metal. He quickly dropped his arm back down to his side, examining the scrapes that now adorned the amber paint on his forearm. Wonderful.

Ryan gave him a look that spoke volumes, and Tierney knew what he was going to say before he even said it. "_I'm_ _working on it!_ Have a little patience, Echelon, I'm still working on fully comprehending this whole my-brain-is-now-a-computer thing. Don't you remember what happened during the system check?"

Tierney shuddered at the memory. Apparently, Ryan's weapons systems had remained offline even after he had activated his other systems. Unable to remotely activate them, the Surgeon had recommended Ryan figure it out himself. This had ended disastrously, and there was now a very large smoking hole in the wall of one of the other hangars.

Thankfully, no one had been injured, but Tierney had noticed one very interesting fact; the moment Ryan had accidentally fired, almost every agent in the room had pulled out a weapon. Ryan had been too busy with his own weapon to notice, but Tierney didn't have to be observant to notice the wary nature of every single commando that was in the room. This could be attributed to the fact that this sector of the government dealt with alien robots with the capability to hide in plain sight, but still, Tierney's suspicions were rising by the minute.

Ryan made a quiet sound of accomplishment, and Tierney was vaguely aware of his feeling of success. The link wasn't as obvious as before, when they could openly converse with just their thoughts, but Tierney was still able to get a sense of his teammates' feelings.

"'Ade's in trouble." It didn't really need to be said, Tierney knew. They both could sense Evelien's barely restrained panic. A sudden burst of pain in Tierney's side sent him doubling over, clutching his abdomen in agony. It slowly subsided into an ache, and he was aware that Ryan was in the same position as himself, eyes wide in comprehension.

Struggling to his feet, Tierney fought a wave of dizziness that threatened to send him toppling over onto Ryan's still prone form. Ignoring the pain was no easy feat, but Tierney managed as best he could. Ryan was barely maintaining a vertical position, one arm supporting his weight while the other clutched his side as though to quell the debilitating hurt. Tierney helped his teammate to his feet, putting a hand under the shorter boy's arm to steady him.

They hobbled their way to the small human entrance, Tierney tapping on the door lightly to attract the attention of the agents he was aware stood just outside the door. One of the commandos peeked in, noting the discomfort evident on their faces.

"We need to see Evelien. _Now._" Tierney wasn't in the position to be making demands, he knew; his rank, though leader of his team, wasn't high enough to be ordering around the operatives. But one of his teammates was in trouble, and from what he could tell, injured, and he wasn't going to stand for that.

The agent seemed to consider his request for a moment, scrutinizing the duo. Tierney narrowed his eyes, and he could see Ryan bare his teeth in a silent snarl. Just as he was about to repeat his request, the door promptly slammed shut. "You need to stay put. Commander's orders." Came the muffled reply through the metal door.

Ryan shrugged Tierney's steadying hand away, sliding down a wall to sit on the concrete floor, face pulled into a pained grimace.

Tierney tried to comfort his younger teammate, reaching down to pat him on the head awkwardly. His hand was swiftly batted away, and he received a dark glare as a way of thanks for the attempt. "We'll figure something out." Tierney assured, trying to sound more assertive than he really was. Truth be told, he was at a loss for what to do, and was sure Ryan could tell.

Ryan's glare deepened, the red of his eyes going several shades darker. "She's nearby, I can tell, and she's hurt. I'm not going to sit around twiddling my thumbs waiting for something to happen._ We_ need to do something_ now_." Ryan growled, and Tierney agreed. A small voice in the back of his mind made a note that that was the first—and probably last—time he and Ryan had ever agreed on anything. That same voice added that it had never seen Ryan act very concerned about anything, especially when it came to Evelien. Then again, a different voice said, he had only known Ryan for barely two days, and the most of which had been spent in different wings of the base. Of course, he could have been very well hoping that finding and helping Evelien would stop the pain he was experiencing. That seemed like a very Ryan-esque thing to do, in Tierney's opinion.

Tierney turned away, examining the hangar for anything that could possibly help. It was devoid of most everything, the only notable objects in the area being a few empty crates. There were three entrances/exits; the main hangar door that led outside, a smaller hangar door that led to an adjacent hangar, and the smaller human-sized door. Tierney could tell Evelien was a few hangars away at least, something he knew was attributed to the empathetic link they all shared.

"We need to get out of here, attracting as little attention as possible. Then we can find Evelien." Tierney looked over his shoulder to see that Ryan was struggling to stand, one hand still firmly clenched to his side while the other supported him against the wall.

"I can take care of that." Tierney moved to help the younger boy as he walked over to the main hangar door, shoulders hunched and wings drooping at a near opposite angle to their usual confident slant. Ryan ignored his leader's attempts at helping him walk, shoving him away when he came within range. Tierney watched as the silver and cyan flier examined the airdock door carefully.

"Can you open it?" Tierney asked slowly, "I don't see a control panel or—" He was cut off by Ryan reaching back and slashing his curved claws against the top of the grooved metal door just below the main hinges, leaving deep gauges. He then curled his hand into a fist and punched the now weakened metal, sending the panel clattering to the ground.

"Yeah, I can open it." Ryan cast a pretentious smirk over his shoulder, although Tierney could still see hints of the phantom pain on his face. Tierney smiled in response, nodding in approval despite not really agreeing with his teammate's method. There was no doubt that someone had heard, and would be investigating shortly.

Tierney took the lead, peeking out the hangar door to make sure the coast was clear, despite all chances of the element of surprise being dashed with the ramming of the door. Ryan pushed past him, shoving him out of the way. "We don't have time to _doddle!_" Tierney suppressed a groan and followed his teammate, striding past him and taking the lead.

Finally out of the confines of the base after what seemed like much longer than two days, Tierney took a moment to appreciate the clear sky and small breeze. He then noticed how absolutely enormous he was in comparison to everything. Sure, he has been able to tell immediately how large he was in comparison to the agents when he had first come out of 'stasis', but now that he was out in the open it was all the more apparent.

As the two neared where they could only assume their third teammate was, they noticed their impression of Evelien through the link was growing. Tierney surmised the bond had to be very sensitive to distance.

The feelings Tierney was receiving were a mixture of absolute terror and pain, and the ache in his side had steadily grown to an agonizing burn that was making it difficult to concentrate. He was barely aware that Ryan was probably feeling the same, and the younger boy had slowed his pace to a hobble that trailed behind him at an uneven pace.

They rounded a corner and immediately caught sight of the source of the commotion, sending both boys staggering back in surprise. The purple and black Cybertronian stood a good distance away from them, leering through a crimson optical band into a gaping hole in one of the many hangar doors with one arm, sporting an imposing blaster, aimed inside. Tierney and Ryan halted in their approach, watching warily as the Cybertronian noticed them and appeared to do a double-take. Then it aimed one of its guns at the duo, the other still trained on the inside of the hangar, and started firing.

Tierney leaped to the side, taking Ryan with him to avoid the first of the shots. They stood with their backs against the building and collected their thoughts, or what was collectable, as best they could. The proximity of their wounded teammate was messing with their heads, muddling their concentration and otherwise dashing any and all possibility of creating a plan.

The blaster fire stopped, and Tierney peeked around the corner, ducking back behind almost instantly to avoid getting a face-full of blazing Energon. He belatedly realized that Ryan was now nowhere to be seen, and that the steady rhythm of metal against concrete was the Decepticon headed his way. Clenching his hands into fists, Tierney shut his eyes tight and listened, waiting until the sound of the metal footsteps were close and then he leaped, smashing into the other Cybertronian and sending them both crashing to the ground.

Tierney was easily kicked away and he scrambled to his feet, getting up clumsily and making a mad dash to the hangar where he could only hope Evelien was hiding. Of course, the giant gaping hole in the door was a rather big hint. Narrowly avoiding another blaster shot, Tierney skidded to a stop in the hangar and made a quick evaluation of the interior. Empty, save for the quivering white shape in the far right corner and the luminescent blue puddle at her feet. Curled into a ball and shivering uncontrollably was the white, red, and black Cybertronian mecha that Tierney had only seen once but could immediately recognize as Evelien.

Tierney took a step towards her and she let out a little shriek, her feet grating against the concrete floor in an attempt to move further against the wall. Tierney took another step, getting down on one knee to reach out a hand. He immediately recoiled when he nearly impaled his hand on a whirring drill.

Evelien pulled back her arm, looking for all her worth like she was about to stab him with the very dangerous looking tool in place of her hand at any moment.

"We need to get out of here!" He dodged the drill for a second time, scooting backwards to avoid the weapon. Evelien didn't seem to care, and once again stabbed at him. "Stop that—it's me. _Tierney!_" The drill paused, dangerously close to Tierney's shoulder, but still active.

The crimson eyes narrowed behind the barely opaque visor that curved over her white face, riddled with a few scratches and a splash of her own Energon. "...Tierney?" Said boy nodded quickly, but the drill remained in place. "Tell me something that only you would know." The drill was moved from his shoulder to his face, his eyes nearly going cross to keep it in focus.

Struggling to come up with a valid trivia with the tip of a drill now pointed at his face was a difficult task. At his hesitation, the drill was moved a fraction of the distance closer. Tierney said the first thing that came to mind. "You're a gold medal winner in racing?"

The drill moved even closer, now close enough that Tierney could feel a slight disturbance in the air directly in front of his face. "Anyone could know that." Evelien scowled, her brows furrowing behind the visor. "You have one last chance before I test the durability of your face versus my drill."

"Your nickname is Blockade?" Tierney spluttered then let out a relieved sigh when the drill ceased motion and was quickly shifted into a hand. A hand tipped with very sharp looking fingers that could probably deal quite a bit of damage, yes, but that was better than a drill in Tierney's book.

"That is answer is acceptable." Evelien shifted then hissed in pain, then put the hand that had formerly been a drill on top of her other hand, both now pressed onto the deep wound that adorned her abdomen. The edges of the white metal there looked burnt, and Tierney surmised it was a close-range blaster shot. Helping his wounded comrade her feet, Tierney looked around. No sign of the Decepticon. Yet.

Tierney got his priorities straight, or at least tried to. "We need to find Ryan and get to safety. Not necessarily in that order." Leaning around the hole in the hangar door, Tierney was relieved to see the Decepticon was now nowhere to be seen. That was both a relief and a problem. Good in that they had a few moments where they weren't under fire, bad since they had no idea where the Cybertronian could be hiding.

Evelien hummed in thought, the noise laced with pain, and Tierney glanced at her out of the corner of his eye. Her visor flashed, a few symbols appearing that Tierney could barely make out from his perspective.

"Ryan is in the air, I think." She informed after a moment, "The Cybertronian is some distance that way." She pointed a needle-sharp digit in a direction to the right of their position. "I'm estimating anywhere from a few hundred feet to half a mile." She paused, the ghost of a smile passing over her face. "I can't really read what this visor says. Makes it rather difficult, in all reality."

"Good to know, Eveli. Suggestions?" Tierney steered the white supercar left, hoping to increase the distance between them and the estimated location of the Decepticon. Speaking of, it was a Decepticon, right? Tierney couldn't really be sure, but that's really the only thing it could be. Unless the government had really caught an Autobot and decided not to tell their newest recruits, which was plausible. Of course, they had failed to inform them there was a functioning Cybertronian other then themselves in general, it didn't really matter which faction it belonged to.

"You're leader," Evelien snapped, "You're supposed to decide what we do."

Truth be told, Tierney hated making decisions. He could never stop second-guessing himself, and it made it worse when he was in a dangerous situation, and even more so when there were others in danger as well. "We find Ryan," Tierney decided. "We need to make sure he's alright before finding safety."

Tierney paused at the unmistakable sound of a jet, and looked up to see the distinct shape of a modified fighter rocketing overhead. Executing a sharp turn, the jet adjusted course and shot off in the opposite direction Tierney and Evelien had been running.

"Is he going where I think he's going?" Tierney growled, anger rising at his youngest teammate's idiocy.

"I believe so," Evelien replied, following his gaze, "He's either very brave or very stupid. But the question is, do we follow him to our most certain doom or leave him to his fate?"

After a moment of deliberation, Tierney decided. "I follow, you stay here." He shifted his hold on Evelien's arm so as to better support her. "How far out is he?"

"You can't leave me here! What if the baddie goes around and finds me here alone? I'll be a sitting duck!" Evelien argued, glaring up at him as though he were stupid.

"If I take you with me you'll be an easy target, too. The best you can do is hide somewhere close by and wait for me to come back for you." Tierney lowered Evelien down behind some crates, ignoring her protests and insistence on coming.

Tierney turned away, his gaze following the fading contrail above him. Ryan was circling back in the far distance, probably to make another pass before doing whatever stupid thing he was going to do.

* * *

Sorry for the late update: I wasn't liking this chapter, and tried to rewrite it then decided I didn't have time for that. Sorry again. First day of school was today, so updates will take awhile... I'll try and get a new update every weekend or so.

Happy Seeking!


	6. Demur

_.:Captain's Log: Entry 6:._

_ You know, I'm really starting to hate being a leader. I don't seem to get much respect no matter what I do... of course that could always be the team's fault rather than mine—they don't seem to respect anything. I do keep them safe, after all. Don't I deserve at least a little respect? Just a little?_

* * *

A stiff breeze against his wingtips, the wisp of a cloud below, the warmth of the sun above. Ryan would have grinned if he could. It was a perfect day for flying, and that's exactly what Ryan was enjoying. Of course, the occasionally blaster shot that _whooshed _by his tail was a bit of an annoyance, but nothing could bring him down. Nothing. Especially when that 'being under fire' problem was about to be remedied soon. Yes, that would be fun. Oh, so fun.

_"Ryan!"_

Tierney was the one exception to the 'nothing could bring him down' thing. That guy was a downer in general.

_"You get down here this minute— we need to discuss our plan." _Ooh, he sounded pissed. Ryan dipped his wing in a wide turn, watching as the group of military buildings slid into view before slowly growing in the distance.

"How are you even speaking to me?" The bond couldn't be opened wide enough for direct speech unless they were all in stasis, Ryan had already surmised. Of course, Ryan wasn't hearing Tierney's voice in his head like he usually would have, but rather like he was standing off to the side. Although, considering Ryan was at an altitude of thirty-thousand feet the odds of Tierney _standing off to the side_ were very slim.

_"Comm link. Really, weren't you paying attention? Evelien said that—hey, don't change the subject!" _Ryan snorted, angling downwards slightly to begin a shallow descent. No need to rush. He could already tell Evelien was out of danger, so no need to panic. At least that pain in his side was gone. Mostly. As he flew closer to her position, he could feel the pain increasing. Another thing to dread once he returned.

"Alright, alright. Why do I need to land to 'discuss' this, exactly? We seem to be holding a conversation over a 'comm link' _just_ fine." A shot flew passed his wing, narrowly missing the sensitive plating there. _Oh, joy._ Ryan thought glumly. _I'm within range again._

_"I— Because... Because I said so!" _Ryan was quite impressed by his leader's excuses. Really. Tierney was just astounding the younger boy with his self-justification . "_Now get your tail down here immediately!"_

"Or what?"

_"I... I'll ground you for a week, that's what. Now hurry up, we need to get this Decepticon thing under control."_

Ryan barrel-rolled, avoiding another volley of projectiles racing past. "How do you know it's a Decepticon?" He asked, baiting the older teen.

_"Because it doesn't look like the Autobots that we were briefed about?"_

"Are you asking me or telling me, oh _mighty_ team leader?"

_"We can air our grievances _after_ we solve this problem, thank you. How far out are you?"_

The base was in full view now, Ryan estimating he'd be over Tierney in a few moments. He rocketed over their opponent, as Ryan had come to call the Decepticon—or whatever it was. Ryan wasn't about to openly agree with anything Tierney said, so that left the faction of the rogue Cybertronian for open debate. Ryan swept into a quick wing-dip when he saw Tierney, to at least acknowledge his presence. Ryan might not have been much of a team-player, but he wasn't about to risk his life ignoring his—_ugh,_ it hurt just thinking it—team leader. At a lower altitude of just slightly higher than the roofs of the hangars the base seemed to be entirely comprised of, Ryan transformed, flipping for an added bit of flair and landing gracefully, though the impact almost sent him to his knees.

_"I said come here, not over there! What are you_ doing?_"_ There was a bit of static accompanying the transmission, driving Ryan to wonder if his comm link was somehow jarred during landing. Not likely, since he was built from sturdier material then that. A tiny controlled fall like that shouldn't have done more than wobble his gyros slightly, if anything.

Ryan's wings twitched back, fluttering a bit as he heard approaching footsteps. Not the light pattering of human steps, or the heavy yet steady steps that he had come to associate with Tierney. Evelien was safe, stowed away somewhere. Therefor, it had to be the rogue. Ryan shifted an arm into a blaster, enjoying the low hum of the crimson barrel charging up a round. Shame it wasn't more like a semi-auto. That would have been more useful than the charged, single-blasts that he had to work with. At least they were explosive, from what he had seen.

The footsteps faltered, a clinking sound indicating that the rogue had leaned up against one of the nearby hangar walls, probably to peek around to check to see if the coast was clear. Ryan's mind kicked into over-drive, already planning out various battle scenarios and the best course of action.

The rogue was most likely injured from a previous fight, which was probably how the government had managed to capture and detain it. It had at its disposal two semi-auto blasters that could fire quite a few rounds before needing to recharge. It was smaller than Ryan was by at least a head, but it was also heavier. It was a ground model from what he had seen, but he hadn't seen it transform yet so it probably couldn't transform at all. Why else hadn't it tried to make an escape?

Ryan readied his cannon, sidling up to the corner to sneak a look around. Nothing. That was good. He hadn't heard anything else, so the rogue either hadn't moved or being very careful about not making noise. It was probably on the opposite side of the hangar.

_"Ryan, where in _hell's name _are you?! This place is like a labyrinth, I—" _Ryan managed to offline the comm link system, glad for the quiet. He wasn't sure if it was only he that could hear the comm link, or if it was also audible to the outside. Better safe then sorry, in any case.

Before he could lose his courage, the cyan-tipped teen rounded the corner, barrel blazing, ready to take down his first enemy, when—

Nothing.

Just an empty stretch of concrete and dust, a row of hangars behind him and a row of important looking buildings in front. Ryan huffed, his wings twitching back a bit in humiliation. All that effort for nothing more than an anti-climatic let-down.

Crimson eyes narrowed, taking in the dreary scene before him before he retreated back around the previous corner. Ryan froze just as the gentle tapping of metal on concrete reached his ears again. What was this, a game of 'red light, green light'? _More like hide and seek..._ Ryan thought in annoyance. _And I'm the seeker._

Concentrating, ignoring the minute hum of his internal systems and the occasional whir of some gear or another, Ryan hoped to pin-point those quiet steps that he only heard when his back was turned. He turned around, listening for the staccato clanging that indicated his quarry. Sure enough, mere seconds after his back was turned the sound picked up again. Straining to pinpoint the exact location, Ryan smirked when he finally figured it out.

He continued on, rounding the next corner without so much as a glance back. When the steps followed, he whirled around, leaping back around the corner with blasters blazing. Though the lack of facial features made it difficult, the dark purple Cybertronian still managed to look surprised. It didn't last long.

The first shot missed completely, veering off to the left to hit the wall of the building. The wall promptly exploded in a mass of rubble and burnt metal, sending his opponent crashing to the ground and nearly blowing Ryan off his feet. Ryan cursed his lack of experience with this type of weaponry and adjusted his aim, straight for the prone form scrambling to get up. He fired, then realized a bit late his blaster still needed time to charge another round.

Ryan let out a string of curses, changing tactics. He didn't know a single thing about hand-to-hand combat, so that was out of the question, unless he had a death wish. He had terrible aim, as was already demonstrated, so that was out of the question unless he could get a lucky shot.

He briefly contemplated calling in for backup, seeing as Tierney was only a short distance away and could easily give him assistance. Plus, he knew Tierney had some training in fighting, so that was certainly a plus. But... No. Ryan wanted to solve this problem on his own. He didn't want Tierney getting any credit for _his_ accomplishment.

A bloom of anger in his chest made him pause. He hadn't felt anything from his teammates in quite awhile, due to distance. That meant one of them was nearing, but the distance was still too great for the cyan teen to determine who. Responding with a pang of curiosity, Ryan kept a crimson eye on his opponent.

It finally managed to get to its feet, wobbling noticeably before almost toppling over again. Various shards of shrapnel littered its side where it had been hit by the blast, and the black and dark purple paint there was badly scratched. A bright blue liquid streamed down its side, collecting in a puddle on the dusty ground. Ryan thought it wasn't going to last much longer in that state.

The Cybertronian managed to spin awkwardly around, pinning Ryan with a flickering visor. In that moment, Ryan hesitated. His opponent was wounded and would could barely stand. He himself was practically unarmed at this point, unable to resort to close-range and having an extremely low chance of actually hitting his target. The Cybertronian couldn't transform and drive off, nor could it try and run without most likely fall on its face. They were at an impasse.

Ryan turned at a small tug in his chest, eyes landing on a white and black shape he hadn't seen before. Of course, judging by the pressure in his chest and the steadily growing ache in his side, he had a good idea.

"'Ade?" The white Cybertronian looked up, giving him a stare almost identical to the black and purple Cybertronian's. It was mostly the visor, of course.

"Hi, Ryan." Evelien paused, finally noticing the Cybertronian _behind_ the teen. Her visor visibly darkened, and her mouth became set in a thin line. She took a hobbling step forward, her expression changing into a sneer. "_You..._" Ryan noticed the blue liquid that was currently leaking from the opponent was also dripping from Evelien's abdomen, and had already stained her white armor and face. She continued forward, shoving past Ryan. "_Du Hurensohn!_" Ryan didn't know what that meant, but it didn't sound nice.

Before Ryan, or the mystery Cybertronian for that matter, registered what was happening, Evelien already had a wicked-sharp serrated drill pointed right at the Cybertronian's face. The hesitation lasted only a moment, a slight confusion crossing the girl's face before her face hardened again. Then it was all over.

Evelien stared at the downed Cybertronian impassively, Ryan openly staring at her, mouth agape. Then she fell to her knees, gave a strangled sort of noise, and started wailing. Ryan had no idea what to do, and just watched silently, gaze occasionally flickering to the prone form a short distance away from his teammate. There was a hole straight through its visor, sparks occasionally flickering across the exposed wiring.

Ryan reopened his comm link, hesitating before stating simply, "It's over."

* * *

Evelien didn't speak to either of her teammates for the rest of the day, instead opting to hide in a corner of their shared hangar. She nursed her wounds as best she could, hissing whenever an operative came near her to help with treatment. Her actions towards Ryan and Tierney became increasingly violent, until they couldn't even get near her. They left her alone.

Ryan watched her from across the hangar, eyes narrowed in contemplation. Tierney avoided him, as well, busy having a talk with The Surgeon. The Commander didn't make an appearance. Occasionally the teal and amber teen would look over his shoulder at his cyan-tipped teammate, shake his head, then turn back to The Surgeon. Ryan didn't bother eavesdropping.

At one point, Evelien's head shot up from her wound, and she pegged The Surgeon with an intense stare. Then, she hesitantly went back to welding her plating back together. Although she had managed to clean most of the blue substance from her previously-pristine armor, there was still a noticeable splatter across her face and visor.

Ryan didn't bother pointing it out.

That evening, the three teammates attempted to 'recharge' for the first time, with varying levels of success. Evelien stayed in her corner, wound now sealed, and ignored anyone who tried to tell her to get on the metal slab they called a 'berth'. Ryan had ignored the request as well, deciding to instead get comfortable on a couple of crates. Tierney was the only one to go along with the order.

Ryan went under first, thoughts whirling about until he slipped into an odd sort of stand-by mode without realizing it. Evelien was next, although it was more of an exhausted stupor than actual recharge. Tierney didn't sleep at all.

* * *

There, alright. Done. Stayed up late to finish this, so you all should feel lucky! So, the next chapter is where it ALL happens. Poor Evelien... she has no idea what's coming for her. Or does she?

Happy Seeking!


End file.
